Forget-me-not
by kardamon
Summary: On the surface, it looked like a victory: the witches were defeated, the curse broken, Eric got his memories back. He has full recollection of his life... the same, however, can not be said about Sookie. Post Witch War, Slow-burn Sookie/Eric
1. Chapter 1

**Hallo! Did you miss me? Or is this the first time you're reading one of my stories? Either way, thanks for stopping by to check this one out!**

**This is a translation of my Polish story, "Więcej grzechów nie pamiętam", but I changed the title, since it's not easy to find a good English equivalent of the phrase (if you're curious what the original title means, PM me ;) ).**

**Breathesgirl agreed to be my Beta again, so you can thank her for the smooth transition into _readable_ English :)**

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**About the story:**

**It starts at the end of the book 4 and it toys idea of a different outcome of breaking Marnie's spell. I know there are many stories that pick up at this point, but I hope that I managed to come up with something original. It sticks close to the canon, so expect spoilers for the first five books. Also, it's rated M for later (for both sex and violence, and some swearing, I think). It is definitely a Sookie/Eric story, but just so you know, ****it's a slow-burn, so**** it'll take them some time to get closer, especially since the beginning is not exactly smooth... but that's for you to find out why.**

**See you at the bottom!**

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**Disclaimer: Sorry... what rights? I'm afraid I don't remember selling any rights. You see, there was this witch...**

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Chapter 1

The day was dark and gloomy. My first thought upon waking was that I should turn on the radio and see if there was a snowstorm coming. For a moment I tried to concentrate on a fleeting image from my dream but I couldn't get hold of it. The only thing I knew was that I'd been dreaming about something very intensely but the memory of the dream itself disappeared with my returning consciousness. I groaned out loud and stretched. I had slept a long time – just how long, I realized only when my eyes fell on the alarm clock and I saw that it was already four P.M. I sat up quickly.

How is it possible that I didn't wake up earlier? - I thought.

Sure, it was a New Year and I had spent the previous night on my feet at Merlotte's, but still, I was surprised. I must have been more tired than I thought.

I wasn't about to waste any more time. Luckily, I didn't have to go to work – a shift on New Year's Eve meant that I had the following day off.

I grabbed some comfortable old clothes and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. I was strangely sore. My muscles were tired, as if I'd worked out the previous day. I thought that the hot water would do me some good. So far I remained in blissful ignorance. It was only when I undressed that I saw the first sign that something was not quite right.

I had a few bruises which I had no idea where they came from but they were not what caused me to break into a cold sweat.

On my shoulder. On my chest. The next two, less visible, in the groin. They were faint, clearly closed and mostly healed, but they looked pretty fresh.

The fangmarks.

I stood there in the shower, transfixed by the sight . My temples throbbed frantically. How did it happen? I have not been with any vampire since Bill. Was it possible that I got drunk after work and did something unspeakably stupid, like stopping by my ex's place and sleeping with him? Or maybe it was him who visited me? Was that where my bruises came from? But Bill was supposed to be in Peru, and I have never drunk so much that I would not remember a thing! Could it be that vampires had finally discovered a way to glamour me?

I earnestly tried to remember what happened last night, and I realized that I didn't remember going to bed. The last thing I could recall was the drive back home from Merlotte's. At that time I was definitely still sober.

Finally I pulled myself out of my thoughts and, not knowing what else to I do, I finished my shower and got myself dressed quickly, ignoring the foreboding feeling that was threatening to take me over .

A strong, chemical smell of cleaning products hit me when I entered the kitchen. The room was squeaky clean. I furrowed my eyebrows. I wasn't a slob but I didn't remember scrubbing it so thoroughly lately. Did I have a drunken cleaning fit? That, at least, would be more preferable.

I let the coffee brew and made myself some breakfast.

My hand stilled midair when I reached to my new calendar – that I also didn't remember putting on the wall, by the way – and saw the date. It read 4th January. The word of the day was 'annihilation'. How fitting – my memories of last night apparently got annihilated. I must have accidentally removed a few cards together instead of just one, too. What was wrong with me last night?

I turned on the radio hoping to catch some news about the weather but when the speaker's words registered with me my heart skipped a beat. He said: 'January the 5th.' The fifth.

I misheard him.

Didn't I?

I run to switch on the TV to confirm that it was some kind of a mistake but the guy in a newsroom used the same date. I plopped heavily onto the couch. I couldn't believe that I lost five days! How was it possible? I would have thought that someone was playing tricks on me, but it was unlikely that they (whoever it was) would be able to talk a nationwide TV station into cooperating for the sole purpose of playing a prank on me.

I had to try one more thing to check if I wasn't experiencing some weird hallucinations. I grabbed the phone. The first one who came to my mind was Jason, but he didn't pick up, so I called Sam.

"Hi, Cher," he greeted me warmly. "I was just thinking about calling you to make sure that you're okay. How are you? Did everything go according to plan?"

I took a deep breath. Something was up after all, and it seemed like Sam knew that there was something going on. I had no idea what plan he was talking about. It looked like I had not dropped off the face of the Earth and had been up and around for the last few days, apparently getting myself involved in some vampire shit. Damn it.

"I'm fine," I reassured him, wondering what was it about my supposed plans that got Sam concerned. "Sam, I have a few questions and I'd definitely like to talk to you later, but for now I really need you to tell me one thing: what's today's date?"

I was met with a few seconds of stunned silence.

"January the 5th" was Sam's answer when he recovered. Then, probably looking for some logical explanation of my question, he quickly added: "You were supposed to work the evening shift tonight, but if you can't make it…"

"No! No, it's okay, I'll be there."

I wanted to see him and find out if he could be any help to me in explaining what happened to me but this was not a conversation I wanted to have over the phone.

"Sookie, did something happen?"

"I don't know yet," I said frankly and then hung up.

For a moment I sat in the kitchen trying to gather my thoughts. I had to face the facts: for some reason a few days in my life were missing. The most urgent matter was to determine what had happened during these days. The next time I got up I did so with a purpose. I walked through the whole house inspecting it carefully and searching for the signs that would help me solve this riddle.

I noticed a few alarming things. The front door looked like somebody had broken in recently. Someone had strengthened it with a few nails so that they held on, but it was clearly just a temporary fix. I also found a man's coat on the rack – mine, on the other hand, was missing. Was I involved in some incident, lose my coat in the process and borrowed someone's else clothing? Whose? The only thing I could tell about the coat's owner was that it belonged to someone tall. Upon further inspection I found Jason's shotgun (it looked used!) near the coat-rack and a small stash of True Blood in my fridge. Whatever I'd been up to it definitely involved vampires. However, the most disturbing discovery awaited me in the last room I checked – the laundry room. I almost didn't notice it at first, but I saw that my washing machine was full of unloaded, clean laundry and I decided to take care of it.

The contents of the washer solved the mystery of my missing coat – it was there, torn and stained with the badly washed blood.

Something happened. Something bad. Something brutal, including physical violence and casualties, or at least injuries. I knew that the blood wasn't mine because I was fine. It looked like I'd been in a fight. Maybe someone killed a vampire near me again, like when Long Shadow's pieces exploded onto me? What if it was one my friends who died? Was it the same person I kept True Blood for in my fridge? Maybe I hit my head really hard and that was why I didn't remember? Maybe I was just in shock and my mind was repressing some horrible truth?

Suddenly I thought of one more possibility – if my coat wasn't, in fact, missing, then why was this other coat on the rack? What if its owner was still in the house?

I did a quick mental scan and immediately found a void in the hidey-hole in the guest room.

There was a vampire in my closet.

I glanced at the windows. I could tell that dusk would come quicker that usual because of the heavy clouds, which meant that my guest would be up soon – by my estimation I had less than the hour. I was nervous about the fact that I didn't know who this person was. I thought about the vampires that had invitations to my home and made a short list with only two names on it: Pam and Bubba. Neither of them had ever bitten me though, and I seriously doubted I'd ever let them bite me in the places some of the fangmarks were, no matter what my state of mind was. Not that any of that even really mattered considering that I could have invited someone in during the time I didn't remember. I just really hoped it wasn't Bill since that would make me feel like a pushover.

Once again I looked at the sky then checked the time and I made a quick decision.

I had enough unknowns as it was. If there was an enemy in my closet, I'd rather know before he could wake up, so that I had any chance to defend myself. I wanted to at least know if it was a stranger or someone I knew. I drew the curtains on the windows and slipped inside the closet, leaving the door only cracked behind me in order to keep most of the light outside. I switched on the flashlight and squeezed myself into the tiny space to open the trapdoor to take a peek with some difficulty.

I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand.

"Eric," I whispered.

My heart was thumping like a jackhammer but he didn't even as much as twitch. I looked for a few more seconds at his still, calm face before quietly lowering the trapdoor and then closing the closet door behind me. I even walked out of the room and to the kitchen. My reaction was partly caused by my need to somehow escape the situation and put some distance between us.

Eric. Why? How? What was he doing here? Was he the one who bit me? Did it mean that…

Reluctantly I had to admit that it was one thing that actually wouldn't be so surprising out of everything that I had discovered so far. On the purely physical level Eric was every woman's dream and even though I knew very well why it wasn't a good idea, I knew how great the temptation was too, and keeping in mind some events from Jackson, I also realized that where it came to Eric, I was prone to moments of weakness.

The thought of what might have happened made me nervous in an entirely new way. Still, I couldn't help but feel slightly relieved – at least it wasn't Bill. I might have been irrational, but for some reason I didn't feel as pathetic as I would have if it had turned out that I was hiding that cheating asshole in my closet.

A small part of me was also pissed and disappointed – if I did sleep with Eric, I could at least remember it!

Then I froze at the thought what kind of power Eric could gain over me depending on whatever happened during these few days and I didn't remember.

I changed into my work clothes, all the time anxiously waiting for Eric to rise. Finally at half past five I heard a movement in the guest bedroom and, not able to wait any longer, I knocked on the door.

Eric was sitting on the bed with his face hid in hands.

"Eric?" I called unsurely.

He looked up at me.

"Sookie," he said. "I remember. I remember everything."

He seemed shaken.

"Well, that's just peachy," I shot back. "You'll have to tell me what happened here then. You see, I don't remember anything."

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**Oh yes, I did! ;)**

**So, now I can tell you that the idea of this story originates from the question what would have happened if it was Eric who was left with all the memories of what had happened between him and Sookie and had to deal with the aftermath of the amnesia storyline on his own? Would he do any better than Sookie?**

**Let me know what you think!**

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**Next time (see? I actually know what happens next ;) ! ) Sookie learns some surprising news.**

**Well, surprising for her, probably not as much for you ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! Thank you for such a great response to the first chapter! It makes me so happy to see that so many of you decided to give this story a shot!**

**I can see that some of you think that Eric would handle this better, on the account of lacking Sookie's 'I'll think about this tomorrow' attitude, but some think it might be even harder for him, since he's not exactly known for explaining things. This chapter should answer at least some of your questions.**

**Of course, this one is beta'ed by Breathesgirl too.**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own any SVM characters. I wish I would. Well... at least... one... Guess which one?**

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_Previously: _

_"Eric?" I called unsurely._

_He looked up at me._

_"Sookie," he said. "I remember. I remember everything."_

_He seemed shaken._

_"Well, that's just peachy," I shot back. "You'll have to tell me what happened here then. You see, I don't remember anything."_

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"What do you mean: you don't remember?" Eric asked after a moment of silence that we used to stare at each other and try to figure out what was going on.

"Oh, I don't know. How about why you're here? Why is there blood on my coat? What was I doing for the last few days. You know, that kind of stuff," I said bitterly.

My nerves were strained so I didn't care that it was dangerous to be rude to a vampire.

Eric stood up and crossed the room slowly. He looked at me very closely. He lifted a hand intending to touch me, but I took a step back instinctively. His hand froze midway. For a split second some kind of emotion flashed across Eric's face but it was almost too quick for me to register and then his expression reverted to the perfectly neutral mask. He moved again, this time slowly, so I could see what he was doing, and reached for me with both hands. He put his palms on the sides of my head and gently turned my face to the light. This time I didn't stop him but I was still wary of his actions and I watched him carefully, uncertain of what he was doing.

He looked at me in silence, as if he was searching for something in my eyes.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he finally asked, his voice quiet and steady.

"I was driving home from Merlotte's after my shift on New Year's Eve," I answered. "Next thing I remember is waking up this afternoon."

"You don't remember me," Eric half-asked, half-stated.

His eyes lost focus and I could tell that his mind drifted somewhere else. I furrowed my eyebrows. I wasn't quite sure I understood. I knew him – I knew who he was – if that was what he meant, I did remember him.

"I don't understand," I confessed.

"That night… Don't you remember finding me?"

He traced my cheekbones with his thumbs in a gesture oddly akin to a caress.

"Finding you? What do you mean?"

Eric cursed softly. He seemed angry and a little sad.

"Fucking Hallow," he said.

"Who?"

Without a word he stepped back and started pacing so fast that he was making me dizzy.

"Eric, please, tell me what happened!"

He stopped abruptly and stood still for a moment, with his back facing me. I watched the tense muscles on his shoulders. It was only then that I noticed his clothes – he was dressed in a pair of cheap blue jeans and some random T-shirt. Both looked like something much lower quality than his usual outfits.

He let out a resigned sigh and sat on the bed, making a gesture for me to join him.

Time to talk. I walked to him slowly and sat on the edge of the mattress, keeping my distance. I didn't miss the way his eyes dropped to the space I left between us before looking up at me.

"We fought the witches," he said.

"The witches," I repeated numbly.

Witches were real. Good to know. Eric nodded patiently as my mind digested another piece of information.

"We?"

"Yes, we."

"Me too?"

Another nod.

"Past tense?"

"We defeated them last night in a battle."

I took part in a battle. That explained my bloody coat. My conscience eased a little. A fight sounded better than a murder. It implied self-defence and such things.

"Why don't I remember it, though? Did the witches make me forget?"

"That's what I think."

"Why was I involved at all? Did you hire me to listen to them?"

"No, I didn't. The witches' leader – Hallow – cursed me. I was hiding from them here in your home."

"Why?" it was slowly becoming my favourite question.

"You… found me. And took me in. Then Pam decided it would be safest for me to stay here."

"Pam? Why not you? Why did I have to find you? Why did I agree? What did Hallow do to you? You look fine. What did she want from you? Why did she attack you?" I fired.

"I'm fine now. The curse must be broken. We captured Hallow after the battle. I came back home with you and Pam was working on making her undo the spell right before the sunrise. I assume she succeeded but it looks like not everything is right since you don't remember what happened."

I noted with some unease the way he said 'home' without a possessive pronoun as if it was completely natural for him, but I decided not to bring it up for now.

"What about the rest of my questions?"

"Hallow came to Shreveport with the intention of taking over the Supes in the area and, I suspect, to cure her own insecurities and let out some of her anger. She approached me and demanded a ridiculously high fee and my services."

"Your… ugh," I said when I caught onto what he was saying. "Did she mean what I think she did?"

He nodded. I was appalled. Eric might lead a promiscuous life but it didn't change the fact that I found the proposal degrading.

"You declined," I stated as a fact.

He just gave me a look. Okay, it was a rhetorical question.

"I might have said something insulting."

Uh-huh.

I decided not to dwell on what exactly made the offer unacceptable to him – the amount of money this Hallow wanted him to hand over or his dignity.

"What kind of curse did she cast on you?"

"Amnesia. She wiped my memory. I didn't know who I was."

NOW his story was getting really interesting.

"She took away your memories? And now she's doing it to me?"

He shook his head.

"No, it wasn't like that. You lost a few days, Sookie, I lost everything. I didn't even remember my own name before you told me it. When you found me I was completely lost."

"So it was you who bit me?" I said sounding a little more accusatory than I intended.

Eric looked at me offended.

"I didn't force you to do anything, lover."

I took a deep breath. All of sudden I felt extremely vulnerable.

"Eric," I whispered. "Did you… did we…"

I cleared my throat.

"Did we have sex?"

"That we did."

I don't know if he smiled or what his face looked like when he said it – I was too afraid to look him in the eye.

"How could you do this to me?" I asked, a little stupidly. "I took care of you, and you… how could you…"

I heard his responding low growl and I had enough reason to shut up.

"I didn't do anything you didn't agree to," Eric said coldly. "Is your opinion of me really so poor? I would never bite you or…"

He paused and I cringed expecting him to say something vulgar that would ultimately humiliate me.

"…touch you against your will," he ended his sentence phrasing it in unexpectedly polite way.

I looked up at him surprised. Oh my, he was mad, that much was clear. His fangs were fully extended. It looked like I managed to insult him. Deep down I knew that Eric wasn't a rapist and I couldn't even picture him as one, but I felt tricked and I was trying to protect myself by lashing out.

"Are you happy now?" I snapped.

He hissed.

"Stop it! Don't act like I somehow hurt you! Unlike me, you were of sound mind and memory. If anyone was using anyone, it certainly wasn't me."

I laughed bitterly. Maybe he didn't use me but it didn't change the fact I felt used.

"Seriously, Eric?" I asked. "Are you suggesting that I used you? No one's going to buy it. With your memory or not, I will not believe that I traumatised you by hooking up with you."

"What do you want from me? To say I'm sorry? I won't! I'm not sorry and I don't regret it! If you remembered it, you wouldn't blame me!"

"But I don't remember what happened!" I shouted.

I was screaming using the full capacity of my voice. I was on the verge of hysteria.

"You know what? I don't care! You got what you wanted! You got laid and you're safe. I don't remember it so I can just pretend it never happened! Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it's for the best! You can go back to Fangtasia and forget all about me now that you fucked me. I can forget about this conversation and everything will go back to normal! You won't have to pretend that you care and I will simply think about all of this as some kind of a weird dream! You'll get in touch when you need something from me again!"

There was a tiny part of me that was afraid that this was how it was going to be and that Eric would start to ignore me now that he got what he wanted from me and that would make me feel… cheap.

Cheap and dirty.

Eric blinked. He retracted his fangs.

"Is this what you think?" he asked.

He looked less angry, but intrigued – and maybe a little hurt.

"What am I supposed to think, Eric? Did you ever give me a reason to think differently?"

I pulled my legs up in front of me and hugged my knees.

"It's not like that," he said, quietly and stubbornly.

"Then how is it?" I snorted.

He didn't answer.

"I feel robbed," I said abruptly, not even sure why, because I didn't think he wanted to hear about my emotional turmoil.

"By me?"

I made a vague gesture.

"You, the witch, I don't know. I've lost five days of my life during which I've been doing God knows what! For goodness sake, I slept with someone and I don't remember it!"

"Not with someone," Eric interjected. "With me."

I closed my eyes. I could feel the approaching migraine.

"Yes, I slept with you and I don't remember it! Eric, maybe you don't get why I'm so upset because it's no big deal for you, but consider the fact that I don't do things like that. I suppose you don't keep track of the number of women you had sex with and you probably don't pay much attention to it but up till now I've been with only one – literally ONE – man. For me, it is a big deal."

I felt a tear escaping from between my shut eyelids and making its way down my cheek.

"Why can't I remember?" I whispered.

I didn't open my eyes when he brushed my tear away nor when I felt him standing up and kissing my forehead.

"I'll call Pam," he said and this time his voice was soft. "Maybe she knows something more."

He walked out of the room quietly and I spent a few minutes getting a grip on myself before I followed him. Apparently he didn't have his cellphone with him because he went straight to my phone. I could hear his leveled voice in the background when I went to the kitchen to warm up a True Blood for him. I realized that I needed to leave for work in a few minutes if I didn't want to be late, but I wanted to know if he managed to learn something new. I placed the bottle on the coffee table in the living-room and squeezed myself into the corner on my couch. Eric, still on the phone, joined me – unlike me before, he didn't keep any distance and he sat right next to me. He picked up my hand absentmindedly, without even looking, and started playing with my fingers. I stared astonished at our linked hands and at his thumb moving slowly and stroking my skin in a soothing way. The most shocking thing about it was that he didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, as if it was something habitual. What exactly happened during those five days?

Finally he hung up.

"And?" I asked.

Eric sighed heavily. He turned to me.

"Hallow is dead," he said angrily - I guess because it meant he couldn't kill her. "She removed the curse before she died, or at least it seemed that way at the time. Your memory loss is either a side-effect or Hallow planned it as a posthumous gift of sorts: The last bite."

"Like some sort of revenge? Why would she want to get payback on me, though? Did I step on her toes so badly?"

"No, I don't think so, it was more about getting back at me."

"I don't see exactly how erasing my memories could serve as revenge on you."

Eric took a big gulp of blood from his bottle. It was odd, but I decided to ignore it, seeing as I had a few more pressing questions.

"What now?"

"The good news is that the coven is dissolved and there shouldn't be any more problems caused by the witches, so it doesn't look like your memory loss is a sign of something more coming. The bad news is that now that Hallow's dead we don't know exactly what she did and how to reverse it. Maybe your memories will come back on their own at some point but there isn't anything we can do to speed it up, unless you find another witch willing to try and undo the spell, but from what we gathered when I was cursed, it's usually a lot harder to break the spell for someone else than the person who cast it."

"So there is a possibility that I won't get my memories back?"

"It is possible, yes."

I sat in silence for a while, digesting the information. Eric was still holding my hand.

"Is there anything else I should know about?"

Eric fell thoughtful for a moment.

"Your brother is missing."

"Jason?" I asked, alarmed.

"He stopped by the first day of the New Year and nobody has seen him since. You were looking for him."

I did some quick math and my stomach dropped: He had been gone for too long to dismiss it. Jason wasn't the brother of the year but that didn't mean I didn't love him.

"I think I have an idea where to look for him," Eric said unexpectedly.

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**That's all for today. Next time: we're going on a trip.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hallo my dear readers! Thank you for all your reviews! It's good to know there are still people enjoying SVM stories out there, even after the disappointment that was the last book.**

**Breathesgirl takes credit for betaing this story.**

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**Disclaimer: Sookie belongs to Eric - even if she doesn't know it yet.**

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Previously:

_"Is there anything else I should know about?"_

_Eric fell thoughtful for a moment._

_"Your brother is missing."_

_"Jason?" I asked, alarmed._

_"He stopped by the first day of the New Year and nobody has seen him since. You were looking for him."_

_I did some quick math and my stomach dropped: He had been gone for too long to dismiss it. Jason wasn't the brother of the year but that didn't mean I didn't love him._

_"I think I have an idea where to look for him," Eric said unexpectedly._

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"Really? Where?"

"Hotshot."

"How do you know that?"

"There was panther's blood on the dock by the pond on your brother's property. When you got home after meeting with the search party I could smell the were panther's scent on you. I didn't recognize it back then and I didn't remember there was a were panther pack in the area."

"In Hotshot? There are panthers living in Hotshot?"

He nodded.

"Oh my God!" I clasped my hand over my mouth. "Jason's date on New Year's Eve was a girl from Hotshot!"

I jumped to my feet and picked up the phone from where Eric placed it on the table after he had ended his conversation. He stopped me by catching my wrist when I was already pressing the numbers.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm calling Sam to tell him that I can't make it tonight after all. I have to find Jason."

"And how exactly are you planning to do that?"

"I'm going to Hotshot, of course."

"Alone? After dark? In this weather? To the were panthers' community?"

"Eric, there is nothing I can do about it. I have no other choice, I won't leave him there!"

"Out of the question."

"Dammit, Eric! You don't tell me what to do. He's my brother! I'm going and it's none of your business!"

"I'm coming with you."

I stared at him for a moment before I understood what he was saying.

"Oh," I said finally.

I thought of at least a dozen things I'd like to tell him; one of them being to tell him to go fly a kite and that I didn't need his help but I realised that it would be really stupid of me because the truth was I could use his help very much so in the end I just mumbled: "Thanks."

He nodded.

I had no idea why he was doing this. Maybe he felt that he owed me after I had helped him when he'd been cursed and he was eager to pay off the debt. Something told me that vampires didn't like to owe anyone favours.

I called Sam who agreed to find somebody else without any argument when I told him that it was about Jason. He also asked if I would be okay – I told him I already had someone to help me. I glanced at Eric from the corner of my eye, but for some reason I didn't feel like giving Sam any details and fortunately he didn't ask for them.

"This jacket is too thin," Eric spoke up unexpectedly when I was getting ready to go.

"Well, it has to do. My coat is ruined."

"Put a sweater on," he said sternly. "You'll get cold."

I opened and closed my mouth, shocked, but he used such a stern voice that instead of arguing with him I obediently went to my room and did exactly what I'd been told to do. Sadly he was once again right. I can be a stubborn ass but I wasn't looking forward to shivering from the cold just so I could make a point, nor did I want to hear the whole `I told you so' speech during the half hour drive.

Jeez, other than my Gran I couldn't remember the last time anyone talked to me like that!

We stepped outside just in time to see the first snowflakes dancing in the air. Eric's face lit up, making him look like a kid at Christmas.

"I love snow," he told me.

And that was the first time I smiled all night. I couldn't help it. It was a pleasure to look at him. It's not often that you see a pure and completely innocent joy on the face of a thousand year old vampire.

Eric smiled back at me and for some reason I felt an ache in my chest at the sight.

Of course Eric's good mood evaporated when he realised that we had to take my car but he managed to survive the uncomfortable ride. Halfway to Hotshot he offered to change with me behind the wheel. I thinned my mouth, offended, and didn't even reply, but my pride lasted only about one more mile – the road was not in the best shape, bumpy and poorly lit, and it was snowing and I had to be really careful not to swerve – but I didn't tell him that he might have been right.

"Where should I park?" I asked when we were almost there.

Eric directed me to the house of the pack-master, a man called Calvin Norris. He also hinted that everyone in Hotshot was two-natured. That would explain why even the simple people of Bon Temps could see that there was something different about this town. I shivered when I stepped out of the warm car. I rang the doorbell with Eric standing right behind me. I wouldn't admit it aloud but his presence made me feel safer.

A short muscular man opened the door. He looked like he was in his early forties. He had short, salt-and-pepper hair and a trimmed beard and he radiated authority. He seemed pleased to see me – that is, until he noticed Eric.

"Sookie," he said and then, after a pause he added, "Northman."

Great. Someone I was supposed to remember.

He tipped his head at each of us. I wasn't surprised that he knew (or at least recognized) Eric. They exchanged level stares.

"Are you his?" Calvin (I assumed it was him) asked me unexpectedly.

"What? No," I said surprised with the sudden turn in the conversation.

Eric's hand momentarily closed on my shoulder in a quick and painful grasp. I glanced at him and I saw that for a second he looked as if I slapped him across the face.

"She's under my protection," he said in a cool, steady voice.

The silence that fell after that sentence wasn't the pleasant kind.

"I'm here because of my brother, Jason," I said in order to move the things along.

Calvin looked at me surprised.

"We already established that I don't know what happened to him."

A trip to Hotshot must have been one of the mysterious pieces of the puzzle that belonged somewhere in my missing days.

"The police found a panther's print on Sookie's brother's property," Eric said.

This time the tone he spoke with was completely neutral – there was no accusation in his voice. I suspect that Eric realised the only thing it would do would be making the two-natured pack-master defensive. He knew this game well.

There was anger in Calvin's eyes.

"I didn't know about it," he said after a pause. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but I was at loss. I didn't remember.

"Sookie wasn't aware what kind of weres you are," Eric came to my rescue.

I don't know if I talked to him about it or if he deduced it himself, or maybe it was just a blind guess, but it looked like his explanation worked, because Calvin didn't question it. I was glad because something told me that it would not be to my advantage to show any kind of weakness here.

"You think one of us took your brother," Calvin said and I nodded.

"You think that Crystal got upset with him and decided to hurt him?"

_Crystal was the name of Jason's New Year's Eve date –_ I remembered with an effort.

"They are your people," I hedged trying to be diplomatic.

He had strange, golden eyes: They widened when I spoke.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked out of nowhere.

"I'm not."

_I have a silent, but very effective Viking with an impressive set of teeth guarding my back and I won't hesitate to use him._

Calvin fell thoughtful.

"Felton," he said suddenly, as if solving the riddle.

I didn't say anything because I didn't know what he was talking about but he had come to some sort of decision because he gave a sign for us to follow him. He led us through the village in some unknown direction.

It was dark and cold, there were no streetlights and the snow was blowing in my face: I was walking almost blindly, tripping on the uneven ground. Eric gripped my arm again and this time I was grateful because it helped me keep my balance. Of course his night vision was great which certainly helped.

We approached another cottage and Calvin knocked sharply. A younger man answered the door. He had thick eyebrows, dark, unreadable eyes and the way he was moving reminded me of a cat.

"Where is he?" Calvin asked, not beating around the bush.

The man (Felton?) shivered and he looked like he wanted to run but he didn't answer.

"Where?" Calvin asked again.

Suddenly his hand turned into a paw and he hit Felton across the face leaving parallel cuts behind. Felton dropped to his knees and I covered my mouth with my hand.

"Is he alive?" I heard Calvin asking.

My heart jumped. It was less than an hour since I learned that Jason was missing and Eric presented me with a way to solve this problem right away so even though Jason had been missing for days it didn't fully hit me how dire the situation was until then – I'd been holding onto the thought that I would find him soon and all would be well, but in that moment the fear caught up with me.

Some remote part of my brain registered Eric's hand on my shoulder, but I didn't care at the moment.

"In the shack behind the house," Felton muttered.

I spun on my heel and ran across the dark backyard. I stumbled on a pile of wood around the corner and was sure would lose my footing and fall face first and I would have if it wasn't for Eric's vampire reflexes allowing him to steady me before I hit the ground. I was so agitated that I didn't even thank him for his help, just continued running.

Calvin broke the lock and opened the door. A horrible odor hit me. When Calvin flipped on the light and I saw the inside of the shack I didn't understand what I was looking at at first.

There was a blond man lying on a blanket which was thrown carelessly on the cement floor. He had only his pants on and his skin had a strange grey and bluish hue from being cold and dirty. It was difficult to recognise him as my own brother. He was the source of the stench.

Fighting the shock I kneeled next to him and hugged him as well as I could.

"Jason," I said weakly.

He opened his eyes.

"Sookie?" his voice was full of disbelief. "Is it you? Am I saved?"

"Yes," I said.

I looked over my shoulder at Eric, desperately seeking confirmation on his face. After all, he came here to help me, so he would get me out of trouble if there was any, right?

Eric wasn't looking at me, however, he was staring intently at Jason and I found it unsettling. I turned my eyes to Calvin and I saw that he had a similar expression on his face as Eric had. His line of vision seemed to be the same too: I followed it.

There were bite-marks all over Jason's body. Many of them.

All of a sudden I realised what it meant.

"Oh no," I said quietly.

"I didn't kill him!" I heard Felton's voice coming from the outside.

"You bit him!" I cried, devastated. "Why did you do this? Why would you do this to him?"

"The only reason why Crystal liked him better than me was because he wasn't like the rest of us!"

Crystal. The girl. Felton was a jealous boyfriend?

"So you decided to turn him," Eric finished emotionlessly.

"You abducted him, you held him locked here and you bit him," I said in a voice that didn't sound like my own.

I felt a wild fury rising inside of me. I knew that I had to get out of there while I could still control myself. Nothing good would come out of releasing my anger.

"Take him to my car, please," I said stiffly.

Jason was too weak to stand on his own.

I got my wish and Jason was moved to the back seat of my car.

Calvin stopped me, "Felton will be punished," he said. "Tonight."

I nodded.

"If we handle Felton, will you call the police?"

There were so many unsaid things left in that question that I didn't even know how to start answering it. I hesitated. I could see the tension in Calvin under his deceptively neutral stance.

The supernatural world was a separate reality which was ruled by its own laws. When I had agreed to work for Eric for the first time I had made him promise to hand the humans over to the police but I had no doubts that it was the right thing to keep it secret when he had staked Long Shadow and killed the Weres that had set a trap for me in my house after returning from Jackson. Hell, I even hid a body with Alcide once so I wasn't one to point fingers. Calvin was a pack-master. He was in charge of delivering justice here and Felton was a part of this world. He had known what he'd been doing and who he would be answering to.

"I won't," I said. "I trust your judgment."

I thought about what Alcide had told me once about the bitten weres.

"Besides, Jason might be one of you now," I added fighting to keep my voice calm. "He might need you."

"I'll come for your brother when the next full moon comes," Calvin said and I knew that I was right to say what I did.

I could hate the reality of it all I wanted, but I knew that if Felton succeeded in turning Jason, Hotshot would be the place where my brother would need to look for help so I thanked Calvin. This time I didn't protest when Eric walked to the driver's side without saying a word and I just gave him the keys.

"You did the right thing," Eric said unexpectedly after we got into the car and he started the engine.

"Um, thanks, I guess," I replied awkwardly. I had no idea what to say to his comment and why he felt the need to share it with me.

I focused on Jason, anxious to learn what exactly had happened to him and how he was. He seemed more lucid, unfortunately his odour got stronger as he warmed up in the enclosed space of the car. Of course it wasn't his fault, so I decided to be a good sister and try to ignore it. I shot a nervous glance at Eric, whose sense of smell must be a dozen times stronger than mine, but his face was blank and he didn't say a word for the rest of the ride.

After we got to my house I placed Jason in the bathroom. I think he poured half of the bottle of liquid soap on himself in his need to get clean. I managed to find some fresh clothes for him (and came across a few Eric-sized articles of clothing in my drawer in the process) and gave him something to eat after tending to his injuries. Jason and I didn't have a very close relationship but in time of need I was ready to do everything within my power for him.

When I finally got him settled in a guest bedroom and wished him a good night I went back to the kitchen, only to find Eric waiting for me there.

I was surprised that he was still there. He was sitting at the table with an empty bottle of True Blood in his hand. He had to have taken it out of the fridge himself. Honestly, his apparent level of comfort in my home was a little unsettling. He seemed to be in downtime but he woke when I entered the room.

"How is your brother doing?" he asked, standing up.

I looked at him suspiciously.

"You care about my brother's well-being?"

A shadow of a smile crossed his face – not the reaction I expected.

"We already had this conversation," he explained.

Oh. Great.

"And what did we establish?"

"Your brother's well-being concerns me if it affects you."

I wasn't sure if this morally-shady and psychologically complicated statement should bother me or maybe, in case of the individual talking to me, I should see it as a very peculiar, degenerate version of being nice.

"He's better than I expected," I said, still a little wary.

Eric nodded.

"I need to meet with Pam and see what I missed while I was out of Shreveport," he told me.

"Okay."

I didn't see a problem with that.

He smoothed my hair, once again using one of those suspiciously natural, not fully conscious gestures that I found so alarming. It was really throwing me off balance.

Whatever the reason though, I had to give it to Eric – he definitely surprised me in a good way with all his help in the second part of the evening… and the fact that he didn't boast and spared me any suggestive comments. Jason was safe and my emotions calmed down as much as possible considering the circumstances. The day was ending much better than I expected.

"Thank you, Eric," I said, suddenly awfully grateful for that simple fact.

Then, not really thinking it through, I hugged him the same way I would if he was any other of my non-vampire friends.

Eric immediately hugged me back – and that was the exact moment when I realised, or more accurately felt, that what he told me had to be true.

When I stood there, stunned, in his embrace for a few seconds too long, unintentionally turning the simple hug into something more, I felt my body relaxing without any conscious thought on my part, sinking into a _familiar_ comfort as the feeling of contentment and safety swept over me. Gosh, it felt good to be in his arms. My body's instant reaction told me that I'd done it before. Often enough for this to feel natural.

Crap.

I stepped back and walked him to the door.

"I'll be in touch," he said.

I nodded although I wasn't sure what he could possibly want to talk to me about. He leaned down and after a momentary hesitation brushed his lips against mine in a deceptively innocent way. It was yet another confusing and tender act on his part. I froze. I had no idea what all of that meant so for once in my life I sensibly decided not to say anything until I solved the mystery. I stood completely still and raised my eyes unsurely to look at Eric.

He seemed ready to go, but he paused at the threshold. He looked like he considered saying something but changed his mind so we just stood there for a while in silence. I wasn't sure what he was waiting for.

"Maybe you're right," he said finally. "Maybe this is for the best."

But, even when he already left, I couldn't shake the feeling that he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.

* * *

**Ooooh, don't worry! It's not the end - it's just Eric being his stubborn self. Cut him some slack - he had a rough night. I'm afraid they're both going to keep making mistakes for some time.**

**Next time: daytime. You didn't think there would be only nights it this story, did you?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Haloooo?! Is anybody still here after the not so spectacular disaster that was TB final? Any survivers? Do you need any help? First aid? Heart surgery? Blood bags? Tissues? Brain bleach?...amnesia spell?**

**For now, let's just not talk about it and try to think about something else. Then we can write our own versions of the series final and vote which one we're going to call a canon one. What do you say?**

**Meanwhile, Breathesgirl sent me next chapter of FMN, all fixed up, so here is something for you to focus on in these sad, sad days.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I heard there is an auction where you can buy items used in the show and that Eric's throne is for sale. Now, following Eric's own logic (if you buy a house, you buy it with everything and everyone inside it) I'm asking: is it a package deal? If I buy a throne, do I get the Viking sitting on it too?**

* * *

_Previously: _

_He seemed ready to go, but he paused at the threshold. He looked like he considered saying something but changed his mind so we just stood there for a while in silence. I wasn't sure what he was waiting for._

_"Maybe you're right," he said finally. "Maybe this is for the best."_

_But, even when he already left, I couldn't shake the feeling that he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself._

* * *

I was standing in the bathroom and staring at the sheets that I intended to pack into my washer. I was very glad that I got Jason the fresh change from the drawer the night before instead of just letting him sleep on the ones that had been already on the bed in the guest room. I'd been in a hurry so I had not taken a better look at them at the time – which was probably a good thing, as I had already had enough excitement for one night – but looking at them the next morning I could tell that they were definitely used: Both the ones from my bed and the one in the guest bedroom.

Thank God my brother hadn't seen them. I would have probably died from embarrassment if he had. I was still blushing furiously even though there was no one but me and the damn sheets in the room!

It was a very odd feeling knowing how the evidence I had in my hands had been created but not really feeling a part of the events that had led to its creation.

It gave one more hint about the time I didn't remember, too, and I wasn't sure what to do about it: Two beds with used sheets in two different rooms suggested that it wasn't a one-time thing.

Damn it all to hell.

I chased away the thoughts of Eric in order to deal with the more pressing issue: my miraculously saved brother. Jason was still asleep and I didn't want to wake him. I knew that I'd eventually have to let the police know that I had found him but decided to wait until we could agree on one version of our cover story since I'd already promised Calvin that I wouldn't tell the whole truth.

My inner musings were interrupted by the loud knocking. I had to go out by the back door since my front door was still damaged. I made a mental note to ask Eric what had happened to it, because I had forgotten all about it with everything else going on.

My visitor was a pale, sour-faced guy. I could hear that his mind was one big rant about the fact that he had to drive to some bum-fuck town just to deliver a package to some redneck bimbo (his thoughts, not mine). I looked at him, intrigued, because he wasn't dressed like a delivery guy. I knew that he worked for Eric before he even opened his mouth. His job was to complete the tasks for him that had to be taken care of during the day, when vampires were dead to the world, which made him a glorified errand boy, though I don't think that was how he saw himself, given his high opinion of himself. I also heard a little too much about his rather unhealthy fascination with Eric. If Eric ever needed a human footstool this guy would be the first to volunteer. I wondered why Eric had hired him. Maybe it was because he was loyal?

"Good morning," he said, looking as if he smelled something nasty. "Sookie Stackhouse?''

I nodded.

He gave me a once over and he formed his opinion of me based on the fact that I was blond and had a big rack. He decided that at least my appearance explained why Eric would be interested in me to the point of sending me a delivery. He was sure that it had to be a payment of sorts. There was no doubt in his mind about the kind of services I could offer. He hoped it meant that Eric was done with me and would no longer pay me any attention. He was only surprised that his employer bothered at all since it was blatantly obvious that any woman (or man) should be grateful to be graced with the interest of such a magnificent creature as Eric since Eric's one glance was enough to get him anybody he had a whim to have. He wasn't sure what it was in me that had Eric paying me so much attention. His only guess was that I had to be good in the sack.

For the first time in years I had a hard time controlling the urge to slap someone for his thoughts.

"Can I help you?" I asked icily.

"Delivery from Mr. Northman," he said, looking like he wanted to scold me for my apparent lack of enthusiasm.

I was probably supposed to fall to my knees and bow to the ground to show my gratitude.

His mind told me that he didn't know what was inside but Eric told him specifically to make sure that I got it personally, not to leave it in anyone else's hands in my stead.

I decided it was a good enough reason to take the package from him without waiting for him to hand it over to me.

"Anything else?" I asked.

I didn't have the strength to deal with him.

"No," he said and turned on his heel without even saying goodbye.

Asshole.

I went back inside carrying the package with me. I was so irritated with the guy that I wasn't even sure I wanted to open it but my curiosity got the better of me. I started the coffee and sat at the kitchen table to unpack my delivery.

It looked like a gift. It was in a nice, flat box and was wrapped in glossy paper and had a bow on top. I opened it and saw that there was a new winter coat inside with an envelope resting on it. I put the note aside for the time being to take a better look at the garment.

I admit that it softened my heart a bit. The coat was cranberry red and it was very pretty, much prettier than my previous one, even in its prime which had passed a long time ago. When I tried the new coat on I discovered that it fit perfectly. It looked like it would keep me warm too. There was no price tag but I could tell that it was expensive. Normally I would probably think longer before accepting such a gift but the memory of the last evening and Eric's dark look directed at my too thin jacket gave me a new perspective on the matter. I wondered how he managed to arrange it on such short notice. I knew that he didn't order the delivery guy to buy it because he had no idea what was in the package.

I opened the envelope and two pieces of paper fell out. One of them was a check: A check for fifty thousand dollars!

I gaped in shock, looking back and forth between the number and Eric's signature. What was it about? Why was Eric giving me so much money? A hundred thoughts crossed my mind.

I picked up the card attached to the check. It was a note hand-written by Eric:

Before you lash out you should know that we agreed on a payment for your taking care of me while I was cursed.

E

Okay, that slowed me down. Of course I had no way to know for sure what he was telling me was true, but what would be the point for him to trick me into giving me so much cash?

I got a little ashamed of myself. Did I really demand such an outrageous payment for helping him when his life was in danger? Sure, it was Eric, he wasn't exactly poor, and I knew I risked getting myself into trouble, but still… What was wrong with me? It wasn't how I'd been raised. No wonder Eric was irritated when I acted as if I was the wronged party. I also knew that it showed his fairness that he was willing to fulfil the deal I didn't remember making.

"Who was that?" I heard Jason calling.

"Delivery!" I called back and hurried to his room.

I sat on his bed and took a good look at him. His eyes were wary and on alert. They only calmed a little when they rested on my face. There were bruises on his skin and even clean and rested he still looked exhausted. He even looked a little older.

"I thought…" he stopped but continued after a moment: "When I woke I couldn't believe that I was really here. So when I heard someone coming, for a minute I thought they came back for me."

"Oh, Jason," I said, suddenly realising where the wary look came from.

It was understandable that after his nightmarish experience he would automatically assume that he could be still in danger when he heard someone trying to get into the house while he was half-asleep. I should have been with him when he woke up.

"It's over," I said taking his hand. "Felton will be punished for what he did to you, he probably already has been. No one's coming for you. You're safe."

"You saved me," he said looking intently at me. His voice was gruff. "Last night, it wasn't a dream. You and Eric came for me and brought me home."

"Yes."

It took me a few seconds to notice that there was something wrong with his last sentence.

"You know Eric?" I asked, surprised.

Jason gave me a weird look.

"Sook, I was right next to you when these two vamps – you know, that guy and that pretty blond – came here and explained what happened to Eric and that he should stay at your place. You even asked me to buy him some clothes! It's not everyday that you ask me for a favour! C'mon, I'm not gonna forget it any time soon. By the way, is he still here?"

I sat there stunned but I heard only half of what he was saying, because with my hand on his I was able to catch a fleeting but crystal clear image from my brother's mind: a memory. I saw myself sitting on the couch in the living-room and talking to Pam and Chow and then Eric sitting at my feet – yes, that's right, on the floor! – with his back pressed against my legs. He was wearing… Bill's too small house-coat. My hands were on both sides of his head, as if I was covering his ears in what would be a pointless attempt to stop his vampire hearing from picking up on something from the conversation. I was at a loss as what to make of the expression on his face.

The image was gone just as suddenly as it appeared.

I realised that I accidentally found a way to get at least a glimpse of my missing days.

"No, he's not here," I took a deep breath. "Jason, what exactly do you know about this whole thing with Eric?"

"Sookie?"

"Just tell me, okay? I'll explain everything, but you have to promise me that you won't tell anybody."

"All right," he said slowly. "I was here the first day of the new year… twice. At first I just stopped by and you asked me to buy blood and some clothes for a tall guy. That was when I met Eric.

I tried to listen to his words and thoughts at the same time, but I wasn't able to catch much this time.

"Then when I came back with the things you asked for, these two vampires from Fangtasia were already here. Pam and…

Of course Jason remembered the woman.

"Chow," I supplied.

"Yes, Pam and Chow! They told us how Eric got cursed. They weren't exactly friendly. They thought you might sell Eric to the witches."

So Jason knew about the witches and the curse.

"…Even more so when I told them about the poster!"

I pushed my telepathy to the limits. The poster said that Eric was missing and promised a reward for anybody who would provide information about where to find him. It was made by Eric's enemies who were looking for him.

"…but then we managed to convince them that they could trust us and they decided it would be best if Eric stayed with you until the curse was broken. Hey, did they make it?"

I sighed.

"Yes, Jason, the spell is broken."

My brother suddenly got worried.

"He… didn't hurt you, did he? I mean, you're okay, right?"

Jason was thinking frantically that Eric didn't look aggressive and if anything, he rather seemed to like me. He even told Jason to take better care of me.

I blinked. Did I just peek into some kind of an alternative universe?

"No and no," I said. "Not everything is okay."

I hesitated for a second, but then I decided to tell him my secret. After all Jason was family.

"When the spell had been broken, something went wrong and I… don't remember what happened. I don't remember anything from the time Eric stayed here.

"Oh fuck," was my brother's eloquent comment.

"Yeah…"

He stared at me with wide eyes.

"But nothing… happened to you, right?" he demanded after a moment.

I was reminded of the previous night's conversation with Eric.

"No, Jason, Eric didn't hurt me," I said softly, resigned to the fact that I should reassure him. "I'm just… It pisses me off that I don't remember, you know? I'm trying to put together as many pieces as I can."

"Eric didn't tell you anything?" Jason suddenly sounded suspicious.

He thought about the money – about the fact, that the vamps promised to pay for all of that and now they could very easily screw me over. Thirty-five grand was quite a sum…

"Thirty five?" I chimed.

"Sookie!" Jason scolded me.

Shoot, I guess I just gave away the fact that I was eavesdropping. Luckily his focus quickly moved to another topic.

"Why are you asking? Did they give you less?"

I snorted.

"Oh no, quite the opposite," I said before I could bite my tongue. Stupid, stupid Sookie.

"The opposite? They paid you more?"

"Eric gave me a check for fifty thousand dollars. The guy who woke you up this morning delivered it."

We fell silent.

"I always thought that they should just give you fifty," Jason said finally, once again surprising me.

He thought that maybe I could give him some cash, since he was the one who suggested I should get something in the first place.

"Wait, what? Why fifty?"

"That's how much the witches offered for the info on Eric – that's what was on the poster I told you about."

Huh. I didn't know what to think. Jason thought Eric was a loser for paying more than he had to, which didn't go against the fact that it made him like Eric just a little bit more for the same reason. Of course it also didn't hurt that Eric happened to be the person who got him out of the were-panther's shack.

I decided to put this topic on hold for the time being and steer the conversation toward more pressing issues. We had to figure out what to say to the police. All this talking about the witches and amnesia made us think that it would be best to just stick to the story that Jason didn't remember what happened to him.

That's exactly what we did. No one really believed us, but they had no evidence that we were lying so they couldn't outright accuse us. Somehow we managed to close the issue and they let us be at last. I made sure to check that my bloody coat wasn't anywhere in sight before letting the cops into the house and discovered in the process that Eric must have gotten rid of it while I'd been looking after Jason last night because I remembered hanging it to dry after trying to wash it (which was really a hopeless mission), but it was mysteriously gone. For a second it even had me worried, but then I just snorted in irritation, when I put the pieces together and realised that all the clues pointed to Eric as the one responsible for its disappearance: he was the only person, except Jason, present in my house the day before, he knew about the coat (from our short exchange about a too thin jacket) and he had a motive (force me to accept his gift). Conceited, high-handed vampire.

I meant to drive Jason home but I noticed that he really wanted to stay at least one more night in my home and I gave in. It was Jason's first meeting with the harsh reality of the supernatural world, though if my concerns were right, not the last one.

I was scheduled for the late shift (I had to make a call to Sam to learn this piece of information – he was suspicious as it was and I knew that he'd want to question me at the first opportunity, so that he could find out what was going on with me), so I spent the day keeping myself busy with the chores at the house. I have to say, it was nice to cook for more than just me for a change. The time flew and I barely noticed when it was already time for me to get ready for work. I had already changed into my uniform and checked on Jason and told him not to wait up for me since I wouldn't be back until late in the night, when I was surprised by a knock on the door.

* * *

**Sorry for cutting it here, but it was already getting too long. You'll find the second part of Sookie's day in the next chapter.**

**To the guest reviewer who was worried about Sookie being cold - yes, I know, she might seem pretty defensive right now and she'll continue to be this way (or even, sometimes, offensive) for some time, but I believe her capable of evolving. I hope you'll give her a chance. I'm sorry if you'd like more reassurance, but I can't respond to your review in a private message and I don't want to make any spoilers for the rest of the readers, so I won't tell anything more here.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, I don't have anything smart to say, so I won't bore you with my ramblings, just give you the chapter.**

**Betaed by Breathesgirl**

**Disclaimer: You can always try to uninvite me from this story.**

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_Previously:_

_The time flew and I barely noticed when it was already time for me to get ready for work. I had already changed into my uniform and checked on Jason and told him not to wait up for me since I wouldn't be back until late in the night, when I was surprised by a knock on the door._

* * *

There was a red-headed woman on my porch: judging by the mental signature she was a werewolf.

I opened the door and looked at her blankly, nervously wondering if she was someone I should recognise.

"I'm here officially, so I'll be polite," she said, confusing me even more.

I stepped back to let her in. I was suddenly struck by a question: Why was I so hell bent on hiding my memory loss? Wouldn't it be better to just tell the truth? I had to consider Jason though: it would be even harder to get people to believe that both Jason and I had amnesia at the same time. It would sound awfully suspicious. I decided to think about it more later, but for now to try to avoid being exposed by the red-head unless there was no other way.

"Miss Stackhouse, we started a preliminary investigation on the account of Jackson's were community," said my wolf-guest.

I had no idea what she was talking about. I sighed internally. Oh, well. If I was giving myself away, there was nothing I could do about it. I had to ask:

"In what case?"

Fortunately, she didn't look surprised with my lack of knowledge on the subject. I invited her with a gesture to follow me into the living-room.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have much time right now, I was just getting ready for work," I warned.

"I'll make it quick then. Two nights ago, the woman abjured by Alcide, that were with a strange haircut...?" she trailed off.

I barely stopped my eyes from bulging. The only female were I remembered from Jackson and with a connection to Alcide was his ex-girlfriend, psychopathic bitch Debbie Pelt.

No, I'm not exaggerating. If anybody thinks I shouldn't speak so harshly of her I suggest they find out how it feels to be locked up inside a cartrunk with an injured, starved vampire; then we'll talk.

"Debbie," I whispered.

The woman (whose name I still didn't know) nodded. She was hard to read.

"That's the one," she confirmed.

Alcide abjured Debbie? What does it mean? Maybe there was still some hope for him?

"So what did Debbie do?"

"She never got back home. Her family is worried, especially since they heard about Alcide. They are afraid that something might have happened to her. We're trying to find her."

I stifled a snort (not entirely successfully). They were worried about _Debbie?_ Debbie's well-being was the least of my concerns. To be honest I was more worried about anybody who had the misfortune to meet her.

"Well, I'm the last person Debbie would talk to about her plans. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

The werewolf made a face.

"Honestly, I think she'd rather eat broken glass than come to see you, but we have to check with everybody who was there that night."

_Was where_? – I thought.

Two nights ago. Two nights ago, meaning during the last night I didn't remember. The night of the battle with the witches – at least according to the scarce information provided by Eric.

"I have no idea where she is," I said with a clear conscience. It was absolutely true.

"No one claims to have seen Debbie after she left after the battle," she said. "I'm sure she just went away to deal with the humiliation and anger. She's been abjured… it's rather an awful thing. It's been years since I last heard the words."

_What words_? Maybe Sam would know and could explain it to me.

"Does her family think differently? That she didn't just go somewhere to, um, think things through?"

"They're afraid she might hurt herself," I knew from the tone of her voice and the look on her face that her thoughts on that idea were similar to mine; she knew Debbie. "She wouldn't do anything so convenient for us."

I silently agreed with her.

"What does Alcide think about it?" I asked.

I didn't have a clue what happened between the two of them. I didn't even know why Debbie had been in the area in the first place.

"He's not supposed to be looking for her since he abjured her. He acts like he doesn't care but I noticed that the colonel has been calling him to keep him posted. For now there is nothing to report."

She got up and I followed suit, "This must be the season for missing persons – but I heard that your brother was found and that Eric is himself again." _(Who was he before? – I asked myself)_ "Maybe we'll find Debbie too."

I was slowly beginning to hate the feeling of being the least informed person when it came to my life.

"Sorry for disturbing you," she said when I walked her out.

"Don't mention it," I replied, keeping my voice neutral. "Good luck."

The door closed behind her and I rubbed my forehead. My shift hadn't even begun yet and I was already tired.

Of course Jason wanted to know who I was talking to so I had to talk to him and by the time I was finally ready to go I had to really hurry up. My new red coat made it impossible to keep away the thoughts about Eric. I remembered previous night and the safely tucked away check when I touched the thick material. I should probably make a call to Fangtasia and try to get some things straight.

I rushed into Merlotte's a little late and left my bag Sam's office.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm here now!" I babbled, tying on my apron.

"Sookie, wait," he stopped me before I had a chance to slip out of the room and closed the door for privacy.

"What's going on?" he asked giving me a look that told me that he wasn't going to buy any bullshit excuses.

I sighed and looked deeply into Sam's eyes. He was my friend. I trusted him. This time I didn't feel the need to hide the truth and confessed. I saw that his eyes widened a little when I told him about the unexpected side-effect of breaking Hallow's spell.

"Sam," I said in my no-nonsense voice, "tell me everything you know about that time. Please, it's very important to me. You have no idea how weird this is for me."

I put a hand on his shoulder to stress my point – and I was also hoping that I could repeat the trick I accidentally discovered earlier while talking to Jason and see some lost moments through Sam's eyes by using my telepathy. Yeah, I know, a little rude, but I was desperate.

"Honestly, Sookie, I can't help you much," Sam said worriedly. "We didn't talk a lot in these last couple of days."

An image flashed through my mind – a meeting, here, at Merlotte's – but for now I let Sam talk.

"I know that the whole local supe community was engaged in the fight against the witches, not just vampires. The witches were involved, so were the Weres: They were getting in the Shreveport pack's way. I heard that someone from Fangtasia's human staff got killed when the witches broke in there during the day."

That was all valuable information but I wanted to know more about something else.

"Do you know what I was up to?" I asked trying to steer both the conversation and his thoughts toward the right topic.

"I know that you were hiding Eric," he said slowly.

Sam looked at me nervously. He suspected, or rather he was almost certain that something had happened between the two of us.

Ugh. Did _everything_ have to lead back to Eric?

"That's right," I replied shortly and immediately changed the subject. "Did we see each other during that time?"

"I was at the search party for Jason, as was half of the town. Hey, what happened to him? Andy stormed in today very agitated and drunk two beers all the time cursing both you and Jason."

So I told him that too. Like the good friend he was Sam hugged me and tried to console me. I learned from him that a few of the Hotshot residents were a part of the search party too and that Sam thought that Calvin Norris had eyes for me.

I grimaced. Calvin might be a good guy but the circumstances of our first (second first?) meeting were far from pleasant. Regardless, all of that was starting to make sense and I felt like I was finally walking on slightly more stable ground.

"Hey, you don't by any chance know what happened to Debbie?" I asked suddenly on an impulse.

"Who?"

"Debbie Pelt. Never mind. I guess you don't know her. Apparently, she's missing too. Someone from the Shreveport pack paid me a visit today – a redhead? – and I thought that maybe…"

I abruptly stopped talking when I got a very vivid and violent image from Sam's mind.

"Amanda?!" he asked.

I flinched and took a step back. In his head, I saw Eric launching at the redhead – Amanda – and taking her to the ground – vamp speed, fangs down and all that jazz.

"Sam?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me apologetically and I realised that he knew all along that I was listening to his thoughts, but he let me do it because he just thought it might be easier that way. Sam was one of the few people who wasn't terrified by the idea of me getting into their heads.

He sighed, "It was here," he started. "We all got together – Weres, vamps, shifters, you, Eric, Pam – to talk about our options in fighting the witches and the way we could cooperate. Amanda was here too."

"What happened?" I asked. "What did Eric want from her?"

"Eric… knocked her down a notch."

That he did.

It was a good thing that I saw her recently in a good shape, otherwise I'd be freaking out at that point.

"But why?"

"She insulted you."

Again, I could only blink.

"She insulted me," I repeated numbly, making sure that I heard him correctly. "Eric threatened to rip some woman's throat because she insulted me."

"She was really disrespectful," Sam added quickly, only stunning me more. Was it just me or did he really just sound like he thought Eric's actions had been justified? Come to think of that, Memory Me didn't seem to be too upset with Eric either...

It was getting too much for me so I decided that maybe it would be the best if I just go to work before my head started spinning.

"Anything else?" I asked weakly.

Sam took a minute to think.

"No, that's all I can think of for now. If I remember something important, I'll let you know."

"Thanks."

"Hey, Sookie?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you okay? I mean… you know, beside this, is everything alright?"

I didn't know what to say.

"I can't really think about anything other than this so it's hard to say – but that probably means it is, otherwise I'd know about it."

I smiled a little sourly. I knew that what he really wanted to know was if I was safe and sound because it was no secret that emotionally I was a mess. He nodded in understanding.

My shift passed without any incidents, which I was grateful for. I came home to my brother waiting for me. He looked a little better so we agreed that I would drive him back to his place in the morning. Since I knew pushing it off wouldn't help, I talked to him about the possible consequences of being bitten by a were. It was a difficult conversation;. Jason didn't take my words well . When I felt there was nothing more I could do to help him I exited the room quietly to give him some time to digest the news and I went back to doing my stuff.

After finishing evening chores I wrapped myself tightly into a housecoat, took the phone, sat on my bed and with a heavy sigh picked the number for Fangtasia.

* * *

**I know you missed him, but Eric is just a phone call away :)**

**Next time: someone fucks up.**

**P.S. I'm sure you are aware that True Blood fandom works fast and there are already many great stories dealing with the aftermath of the series final. I'll be adding my own attempt of fixing season 7 later today. If you're interesting in reading it, look for my short story 'Healed' in TB section.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hallo again!**

**I feel like I owe you a warning regarding this chapter: some of you will probably want to strangle someone (and I can only hope it won't be me) after reading it. Just remember - sometimes it needs to get worse before it gets better.**

**Betaed by Breathesgirl**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything and everyone - fully professionally, free of charge; fast, easy and thorough, if you're interested in my offer, please call...**

* * *

_Previously:_

_After finishing evening chores I wrapped myself tightly into a housecoat, took the phone, sat on my bed and with a heavy sigh picked the number for Fangtasia._

* * *

I was greeted by the unknown voice of one of the waitresses. After I introduced myself and asked for Eric I was pleasantly surprised when she connected me with his office without much hassle.

"Is this my lover?" he said instead of a normal greeting, instantly throwing me off balance.

"Hi Eric," I said stiffly, completely ignoring his provocation. "I wanted to thank you for the coat. It's very kind of you. You didn't have to do it though."

"Don't mention it," I could hear a smile in his voice and it made me reluctant to continue with what I had to say next. Before I could speak up he continued, "The colour suits you."

I took a deep breath. It was time to move on to the less pleasant part of conversation.

"There is another reason why I'm calling."

"I'm all ears."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that he couldn't see it.

"I want to know why you gave me fifty thousand dollars."

"I didn't give it to you. I paid you, like I already explained."

He wasn't happy that I insisted on talking about it. Well, tough titty.

"Jason remembers a different number. Care to explain?"

"Pam negotiated the deal on my behalf, but I am the one to make the final decision. You earned that money."

"Eric, if you wanted to give me a bonus, you went overboard. It's too much. I can't accept it."

I was a little sensitive when it came to taking money I didn't work for, especially from men, more so from men that were interested in me. My gran raised me to be an independent and proud woman and I didn't like the thought that someone might be trying to buy me.

"Think about it as my way of saying I'm impressed and extra money for exceptional service."

His intentions were probably good, but the way he phrased it made all the alarm bells in my head go off.

"Extra money for what exactly," I managed to grit out through my teeth.

"Sookie, I'm well aware that you don't want dirty money. If you did you would have just sold me out to the witches. You don't have to prove anything to me. It's because you _didn't_ do that that I want to reward you. I know that true loyalty is something you can't buy, but I actually do appreciate it. I assure you that I don't think it's over the top."

But my mind was already stuck and I didn't really registered what he was saying, at least not at that moment.

"Forgive me, Eric, but fifty thousand bucks for lending someone a place to stay for a few days IS over the top in my book. What is it that you're paying me for, anyway? What exactly was worth so much?"

I was tired and irritated. I'd hoped that I could get this settled smoothly and without any major arguments, but it looked like I wasn't going to be successful on either front. When Eric got something into his head, he was determined to get his way.

"My life," he said tartly. "Just accept the fact that the money is yours. I know you need it."

Tactical error. The thought that he chose to pay me so much just because he knew I needed the money only set me off and undid everything good that the beginning of his speech might have done to get through the red haze that started to cover my rational brain.

"I don't need help!"

"Yesterday, you told me that I reach out for you only when I need something. If that's what you believe, then I don't see why you'd be upset that I'm making sure to give you in return something you might need. Isn't that how it usually works?"

"Oh for God's sake, Eric, we're talking about cash, not social rules for basic kindness in interpersonal relations! It's not like we're friends, you're my boss!"

I regretted my words the second they left my mouth but it was already too late to take them back. I said it thoughtlessly, without any ill will and only when I heard myself did I realise how it sounded.

I got an unpleasant silence as my only reply. I wanted to apologise, but before I found my voice again Eric said icily, "I'll try to keep that in mind."

I swallowed the bile forming in my throat. I wasn't sure exactly why I cared so much about what he thought or how he felt but I suddenly realized that this whole exchange with Eric bothered me more than I was ready to admit. Which made for a very poor combination in addition to my earlier anger.

From that moment on it was just pure Murphy's Law at work.

"I want thirty five, as agreed upon," I choke out.

I didn't tell him I was sorry. Just because.

"It's non-negotiable."

"What is the raise for? 'Hospitality'?"

Unfortunately, Eric didn't notice my sarcasm.

"Why not?"

"Because you don't pay for hospitality! It's not for sell, at least not in my home!"

"Make up your mind! What do you want? I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it. You didn't say a word when I re-graveled your driveway."

"Well, it's not exactly an easily returned gift. What was I supposed to say?"

"Why was it okay for you to accept it then, but not now?"

"I want to know what the money is for!" I yelled reaching my stress limit.

I have no idea why I uttered the next sentence I did. I don't know where the thought came from. I never intended to say it.

Maybe it was the insinuations overheard earlier in Eric's day-man's mind treacherously taking root in my subconscious and worming itself a way out to the real world.

Maybe that's what it was all about? Maybe that's where this whole conversation came from?

"What exactly did that _exceptional service_ that I performed for you consist of? What act of _hospitality_ did I excel at so impressively? Are you sure you're not so generous just because you got extra company for a few nights?!"

I stunned myself speechless with my own outburst. Much to my horror I heard a crack at the other end of the connection. It sounded as if Eric crushed something in his fist – for example chipped off a part of his desk. It shut me up at last.

You can accuse Eric of many things, but lack of intelligence is not one of them. He knew very well what I was hinting at.

"Sookie Stackhouse," he said slowly and in a very low voice, his accent the thickest I'd ever heard it. "Never. You will NEVER say anything like that again."

My heart raced. I had no doubt about it – it was both an order and a threat.

"You have no IDEA what you're talking about, so you WON'T talk about it. You are _wrong_ about what happened. You don't know _what_ happened. I've NEVER treated you like that!"

Talking about never, I had never heard Eric so mad or so close to losing control. In that moment I was really glad that we were on the phone, not face to face.

He paused and if I didn't know better I'd think that he was trying to get a grip on himself.

"Eric…" I whispered weakly, but I stopped there because I was afraid to say anything else.

He kept quiet for a beat and I thought he was going to hang up on me, but he had to have the last word. When he spoke again, his voice was so cold that a shiver run down my spine.

"I gave you that check because I'm grateful for everything you've done for me and I knew that you wouldn't let me give you anything but a payment for some work done for me."

_Then_ he hung up – or crushed the phone – one of the two.

I rubbed the back of my hand against my cheeks to brush off the tears that I hadn't even noticed were spilling. What the hell just happened?

Why did Eric seem so affected by my apparent 'ungratefulness'?

I didn't want to owe him anything. If anybody, a vampire should understand perfectly well the reluctance in creating a debt to someone more powerful than you. Sure, I said a few things I wasn't proud of, but Eric wasn't usually big on emotions, especially his own. When it came to others actions, the word 'observant' came to mind rather than 'sensitive' if I had to describe Eric's attitude.

And why, in the God's name, did arguing with Eric make me feel so miserable?

I suddenly remembered that the reason for all this mess was Eric angering the witch by throwing insults at her after she demanded that he pay the tribute by 'working it off' - somehow, it seemed to fit perfectly into the story, though it didn't improve my mood in the slightest.

I groaned loudly, burying my face in my pillow. After trying to sort my feeling for a while I gave up and simply crawled into bed. Thankfully, I was so tired that I managed to fall asleep pretty fast despite my foul mood.

* * *

**Did you really expect it to go without a hitch?**

**Next time: Sookie continues struggling with making sense out of everything and the Viking makes a statement.**

**Oh, and one more thing - we're closing in to the 100 reviews mark, so how about a game? Whoever sends review number 100 gets a teaser ;) Aaand you can always make your chances bigger by reviewing more chapters if you have not reviewed them yet...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all your reviews! I'm floored!**

**This chapter is betaed by wonderful Breathesgirl.**

**Disclaimer: I understand perfectly well that you can't buy Sookie!**

* * *

_Previously:_

_I rubbed the back of my hand against my cheeks to brush off the tears that I hadn't even noticed were spilling. What the hell just happened?_

_Why did Eric seem so affected by my apparent 'ungratefulness'?_

_I didn't want to owe him anything. If anybody, a vampire should understand perfectly well the reluctance in creating a debt to someone more powerful than you. Sure, I said a few things I wasn't proud of, but Eric wasn't usually big on emotions, especially his own. (...)_

_And why, in the God's name, did arguing with Eric make me feel so miserable?_

_I suddenly remembered that the reason for all this mess was Eric angering the witch by throwing insults at her after she demanded that he pay the tribute by 'working it off' - somehow, it seemed to fit perfectly into the story, though it didn't improve my mood in the slightest._

_I groaned loudly, burying my face in my pillow. After trying to sort my feeling for a while I gave up and simply crawled into bed. Thankfully, I was so tired that I managed to fall asleep pretty fast despite my foul mood._

* * *

7.

That night I dreamed that I was in Jackson. I was lying on the bed with Eric, in the familiar room in Russell Edington's mansion which I knew from the time I ended up there after being staked.

At first my dream was simply recreating my memories, in a little more pleasant form, because I didn't feel the pain in my injured side. I could feel other things though – what you need to know is that when I'd woken up that night next to Eric we'd both been stripped down to our underwear and that Eric had been in a very friendly mood. It was one of my most erotic (and, secretly, one of my favourites with Eric) memories. Let's just say that I can't, with a clear conscious, claim that I would have pushed Eric away that night if we had not been interrupted. Everything was on the right track for us to get dirty and I wasn't exactly opposed to the idea of having sex with him. My virtue was saved only by the sudden appearance of the undead king of rock 'n roll knocking on the window.

In my dream, however, there was no one to interrupt us. Eric paused only for the fraction of a second he needed to rid me of the last piece of my clothing. He shifted his position so that his lower body trapped my legs and I felt part of his weight on top of me. He kissed me and let one of his hands wander at the same time. He caressed my flesh and then both his lips and his hand started moving lower, and lower, until finally his golden head dove between my thighs and I was ready to scream – and then, without stopping his ministrations, he tilted his head slightly and looked up, stealing my voice and trapping me with the look in his clear, piercing eyes.

I woke up embarrassed, irritated and horny as hell. I was shockingly close to convincing myself that there would be absolutely nothing wrong with closing my eyes and imagining the rest of the dream so I could take the matter into my own hands, so to speak.

As soon as I realized what I was up to I jumped out of bed as if it was on fire and made a run for the bathroom in the hope that cold water would help me shake off any residual lust and get rid of the stupid ideas.

Returning to the real world was not pleasant:

My traumatised, beaten up brother was in the next room recovering from his kidnapping: There was a big chance that he would have to shift into a half-man, half-panther every month for the rest of his life starting with the next full moon.

I had holes in my memory.

The guy starring in my sex-dream was seriously pissed at me.

In other words, life was great.

I sighed. I had no choice but to face the music one thing at the time. I dressed quickly and went to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Jason was already awake and much to my relief looking better than the day before. We decided that I would drive him to his house after breakfast – he needed to start getting back to normal life.

There was also the matter of the gun I had to return to him and that led us to another matter I didn't want to think about.

"It's been used!" Jason exclaimed.

Yeah, that's the catch.

I shuddered. There was a reason why I wanted to avoid that topic.

I gave Jason a helpless look.

"I wouldn't know."

My big brother looked back and forth between me and the gun. After a moment of heavy silence he said slowly, "Well, you're here in one piece, so I believe it worked just as it was supposed to."

"Thanks." My reply was weak but I meant it.

Some mercilessly logical part of my brain kept telling me that the damaged door, the gun being used and the bloody coat were certainly pieces of the same puzzle and that the picture they were painting didn't look too promising, but that was one of the things I had meant to question Eric about the night before – that is, after straightening the matter of my unexpected payment – but since that went the way it did I never got around to it. I inwardly cursed my nerves which had decided to snap at such an unfortunate moment.

I most probably deserved a good break-down after everything that had been going on but I really wished the crises had caught me at a more opportune time. So, even though I desperately needed to know the truth, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to poke Eric any more right then. Maybe it would be better to wait a little and give him some time to cool off.

There was something else about the gun being shot that didn't sit well with me, either. Of course, it would be easier to assume that it was Eric who used it but somewhere deep down I knew that it wasn't very probable. I didn't know exactly how fast vampire speed was but something told me that it was fast enough that you wouldn't consider taking out the gun, uncocking it and aiming it at - it seemed like an unnecessary complication when you could simply snap their neck in a flash. Not to mention that most vampires had been turned before the diffusion, or even invention, of the firearm… at least Eric certainly had been.

To make matters even worse I remembered our short exchange about shooting in that parking lot on our way back from Jackson and the way Eric had been holding the gun before handing it to me. If I were to bet on which one of us would use a gun in a fight it would be me. Besides, obviously I had to be the one to take it from Jason's at some point and hide it in my home for later use…

With an effort I forced myself to stop thinking about it. Whatever happened I couldn't do anything about it at the moment. One thing was certain: there were many things I didn't remember which still needed to be explained.

To make up for not showing up at work the night I got Jason back I was working a double shift which meant that I wouldn't have much time left after driving Jason home.

I decided to take advantage of the time while I still had some and make myself useful by stopping by the bank and depositing Eric's check so that I didn't have to think about it anymore. I was giving up on that particular issue: It had already caused me enough stress as it was. If anything good came out of the phone call that night it was that at least it killed some of my doubts.

I still wasn't sure if Eric's intentions were completely pure since I knew him as someone who acted on multiple motives most of the time – I didn't rule out the possibility that he had a hidden agenda – I'd just been gravely wrong in my suspicions as to what that agenda was. That knowledge helped me to keep my cool while listening to the cashier's mental musings as to what could possibly be the reason for Sookie Stackhouse, a small-town waitress, to receive a check for fifty thousand dollars from the owner of the vampire bar (Fangtasia was pretty well-known). Let's just say that her conclusions were not exactly flattering to my person.

Should I have known better and not jumped to the worst possible conclusion? Yes.

Could I have phrased things better? Most definitely.

Was I original in my ideas? No.

I looked down and my hand automatically reached to stroke the soft material of my new coat and I sighed heavily.

Later. I would think about that later.

Unfortunately for me it was a busy day at Merlotte's so my double shift took a toll on me. I managed to talk a little with Sam during my break though. I got to ask him some basic questions about the Hotshot panthers and Jason's possible new status. I even managed to clear up some details from my "chat" with Amanda about Debbie and Alcide that I didn't quite understand.

Despite some nasty mental comments flying around, the usual struggling with sticky tables and heavy trays, my work-day was going smoothly – that is, until the evening shift started and Bill Compton walked through the door.

I blame my fatigue from many busy hours spent on my feet for the fact that I forgot I should have been careful. The only thing on my mind was that I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of sitting on the floor and turning into a weeping mess at the sight of him.

You see, Bill was not only my ex. He was also my first (and at that point, only) love and my first lover. He was also a total jerk, something I found out only days before my memory loss, and I was still having a hard time getting over him. Sometimes I missed Bill very much.

Then I remembered that the scumbag had left me for some sadistic vampire ho and hadn't even had the balls, or decency, to tell me that he was leaving me in a face to face discussion before skipping town. Of all people he could have left that particular task to he had left it to his boss, who happened to be Eric Northman, the vampire who had made no secret of his own interest in me.

Seriously, what guy leaves breaking up with his girlfriend to his rival? Bill also seemed to think that it was perfectly acceptable to make amends by paying me off instead of passing a goodbye note. Son of a biscuit.

That thought shed a whole new light on the context in which my last conversation with Eric should have been placed in.

I turned in Bill's direction and approached his table with my best fake smile firmly plastered on my face and tried to remember that I was a professional waitress and a polite young lady. My Gran would say that instead of making a scene I should kill him with kindness.

I had never broken up with anybody before so I had no idea how to act.

"Hi, Bill," I used the most polite tone I could muster. "When did you get back to town?"

Bill had been away on a work trip to Peru. He didn't go there on Eric's orders, but on – I kid you not – behalf of the queen of Louisiana: She was superior to both of them.

Bill gave me an odd look, "A few days ago. You know that."

Ooooh, crap.

Busted.

"Oh, right," I said cheerfully. "What can I get you?"

But Bill's eyes had already narrowed into suspicious slits.

"Sookie?"

"We have O and B positive."

"Why would you forget that we saw each other before the battle?"

"Bill," I continued, lowering and simultaneously cooling my voice, "the last battle in this country took place during the Civil War. You're not telling me that that's when we had a chat, are you? You have to realise that I wasn't even been born then."

Bill shot me a scolding look but he did know that discussing battles with were-witches in the open space of the crowded bar, in the midst of random customers who had no idea that such creatures even existed, was not a good idea, so he reluctantly let it go and gave me his order but I knew that it was only a matter of time before he would try to confront me again.

I let out a relieved breath when I saw him leaving after a while – and another one after closing when I made sure that he wasn't waiting for me beside my car.

I was exhausted.

I took my time driving home at an unhurried speed. I craved a good shower and my bed. I was mentally searching my kitchen for a snack I could eat before laying down. I naively thought that no one and nothing could stop me from following through with my ambitious plan which consisted of getting home safely, doing my routine and falling to sleep like the living dead within the next half hour.

Uh-huh.

There was a Viking sitting on my porch swing.

I parked the car, killed the engine and just sat there motionlessly for a few seconds with my hands still resting on the steering wheel, trying to gather my remaining energy. I had an urge to bang my head against the horn.

I had to get a grip. I quickly unbuckled myself, opened the door and got out of the car. Eric was watching me unblinkingly the whole time from a distance. He didn't rise or say anything when I got closer to the house: It was unsettling.

"Hi," I said softly when I reached the first step leading up to the porch.

I had to crane my neck to look at him. I was unsure how to approach him. I knew that we should mend the bridges and something told me that I was the one that was going to have to make the first move but I had no idea how to do that. Accusing him of what I had might seem unfair of me, but still, I felt uncomfortable about the situation. I couldn't help feeling wronged somehow, even if it really wasn't Eric who wronged me… not to mention that apologising to Eric seemed to go against my every instinct. Also, I didn't know why he came to see me or what his intentions were.

When he still didn't say anything I climbed up the rest of the stairs and stood on the porch.

"Listen, Eric," I started.

But then he suddenly stood up using his supernatural speed and rose to his full height.

"No," he cut me off in the middle of the sentence. "Tonight, I'm going to talk."

I swallowed heavily. Okaaaaay.

I nodded uneasily and took a few steps toward him. My head was screaming at me that I was an idiot and that I should stay as far away as I could from the angry vampire but my legs apparently had a different opinion on the matter and decided to inch closer.

"I promised you many things," he announced unexpectedly.

My eyes snapped to his face in surprise but I didn't dare interrupt him.

"I don't think you ever believed that I would fulfill them…"

"Eric, no, you don't have to…" I tried to protest, bewildered that he expected me to hold him to anything he had promised.

Whatever it might have been I didn't remember it and I wouldn't hold it against him if he no longer wanted to do that. Even if I knew what it was I wouldn't hold him accountable for something he had said while he'd been under the influence of the spell. If I was right he had not been aware of many things at the time and demanding he go through with whatever he had told me would be wrong.

He raised his hand quickly to quiet me.

"Let me be the one to decide that," he said, shooting me a stern look.

Right. I was supposed to keep my mouth shut.

"I keep my word," he informed me coldly.

Eric had never talked to me like that and I have to admit; it was rather unpleasant to be treated that way, especially since I could see the difference by comparing it to our previous interactions, but I knew that I had made my bed.

Hey, I was the one who told him the other night that we weren't friends, wasn't I?

Yeah. Shit.

I sniffed. I was in a crappy mood, I was tired and I was cold.

I suddenly realized that I didn't want to talk to Eric like this ever again.

"I don't lie to you," he stated.

I watched him closely. I'd be damned if it wasn't one hell of a confession.

It hit me like a ton of bricks that Eric might not have a moral compass, but he sure had his honour.

God help you if you ever come between a vampire and his honour.

"I've yet to break any of the promises I've made you, and I have no intention of changing that."

I desperately wanted to tell him something – I had no idea what, but I really wanted to say it.

"While I stayed here I didn't fully understand the complexity of the position we were both in so not all of what I'd promised you is attainable – as for the rest, I intend to give it to you, as much as I can, whether you like it or not," he ended his speech.

I was possibly one of the few living people who had managed to hurt Eric Northman's feelings – if you stressed living, maybe even the only one.

Silence filled the space between us. I didn't want to leave things between us like that. I waited for him to say something more and only when I realised that he wasn't going to did I speak:

"I shouldn't have said what I said to you last night," I said, testing the waters.

Hey, I can sometimes admit that I made a mistake.

"You shouldn't have," he agreed dryly.

If he was trying to make me feel bad, he was succeeding.

It looked as if he was waiting for something but I wasn't sure what for – as if he wanted something from me. It was slowly starting to unnerve me but I didn't let the irritation take over: I knew that I was treading on thin ice.

"I won't do it again," I offered tentatively.

After a long moment, he nodded his head slightly, a barely noticeable movement.

"What did you promise me, Eric?" I finally dared to whisper the question.

Suddenly he was right in front of me and he was looking in my eyes.

"I promised to look after you," he said.

When he said it that way it sounded fairly simple for something that supposedly included 'many things', not to mention things which were not always possible to fulfill. I might not be the most educated person but it seemed to me that Eric didn't tell me exactly what he had said.

He scrutinized me with his unreadable eyes for a few seconds and then he was gone as if he'd never been there. Eric loved to make a grand exit.

* * *

**Yeah. That was Eric. Let's leave him alone to cool off, shall we?**

**Don't talk to him. Talk to me.**

**Next time: someone pays Sookie a visit.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Many of you guessed correctly who Sookie's visitor was going to be - congratulations!**

**Disclaimer: is it kidnapping if they come to you willingly?**

**This story is betaed by Breathesgirl.**

* * *

_Previously:_

_"What did you promise me, Eric?" I finally dared to whisper the question._

_Suddenly he was right in front of me and he was looking in my eyes._

_"I promised to look after you," he said._

_When he said it that way it sounded fairly simple for something that supposedly included 'many things', not to mention things which were not always possible to fulfill. I might not be the most educated person but it seemed to me that Eric didn't tell me exactly what he had said._

_He scrutinized me with his unreadable eyes for a few seconds and then he was gone as if he'd never been there. Eric loved to make a grand exit._

* * *

I groaned loudly and covered my face with a pillow. I had already discovered, and almost accepted, the fact that my dreams about Eric weren't a fluke. No, they were the beginning of a series. Since that first one, I'd had many others, all set in a similar mood. They usually started as memories, only to stray from the original scenario as they went on and turned into lusty fantasies.

I'd never dreamed of Eric before, even though I'd always found him attractive (in Eric's case such a statement wasn't a matter of individual taste or personal opinion – it was a statement of fact), so it lead me to assume that it had something to do with my lost memories. Honestly, the phenomenon was making me feel confused and highly embarrassed but I had no idea how to stop it. I worried about whether I would be able to keep my wits about me the next time I faced Eric in the real world with all those images popping into my mind. Staying indifferent in his presence was hard enough as it was, I didn't need to add sex dreams into the mix!

My subconscious was latching onto the smallest details and using them as excuses to show me much spicier versions of past events.

Our trip to Jackson wasn't the only recurring motif used by my imagination. The night before, for example, my sleeping mind decided to treat me to a remake of the infamous orgy that I had taken Eric to as my bodyguard. Oh, believe me, I found out that there were many ways my imagination could get creative by showing me many working variations of that specific story.

I hoped that maybe the dreams would just fade at some point. As it was, they were coming to me every few nights. I had to limit my shower-time, too, and lower the water temperature, because for some reason every time I tried to use bathing as a way to relax my thoughts just tended to drift in an… inappropriate direction. I forced myself not to dwell on whether there was any truth to those visions that kept haunting me, because, well… Holy Moly!

Meanwhile, if not for my dream-dates, I would have been on the best track to sweep the whole thing under the rug.

During the two weeks following my memory loss my life got back to its normal, boring but soothingly familiar rhythm. Except for the brief phone chat with Pam, in which she fed me the official version of the events that took place during the Witch War (that's what they started to call it), constructed and approved of by all interested parties, that we were to stick to in case any questions came from the authorities

I had no contact with the Fangtasia vampires other than that one time. I couldn't help but ask myself if it was a coincidence that Eric delegated the task of informing me about it to Pam, or if maybe he was avoiding me.

The only vampire I was seeing during those nights was Bill because of his frequent visits to Merlotte's.

He was coming to the bar to integrate with the local community – or at least I think that's why, because I did not see any other reason for him to be there. Our interactions were strictly limited – usually we exchanged a few words when I was taking his order, proving how poor my acting skills were by trying to appear indifferent. I was mainly concentrating on giving him civilised responses while he was acting in a surprisingly polite manner.

He was using conventional conversational forms to make remarks on the weather and local gossip, mixed with how-de-do's and such: I wished he would stop.

There was nothing in his behavior that I could hold against him. He always had a soft smile and conventional compliment for me. When I talked with him he always looked me in the eye with this gentle gaze which was supposed to let me know how sorry he was. What unnerved me a little was that he was keeping his eyes trained on me even after I left his table.

Bill was up to something.

However grateful I might be for my temporary reprieve from dealing with supernatural affairs, that peaceful state of things had one serious flaw I had to keep in mind: it was, by definition, temporary. Its expiration date was due that very evening and marked by the impending arrival of the full moon. During the weeks leading up to the full moon I did what I could to keep myself from pondering too often over the grim meaning this lunar phase was probably going to become to me and worrying in advance, but that day I had full right to be concerned – I was driving Jason to Hotshot.

I wasn't capable of thinking about anything else, even vampires, from the moment I woke up that morning.

Concern started eating at me long before we met with Calvin Norris at the town limits of Hotshot and he promised me that they were going to take care of Jason; long before I looked into my brother's normally blue eyes to find them alight with a strange, yellow blaze; even before Jason arrived at my house that afternoon and I read the same tension in his mind, that I'd last experienced when the young women had started going missing in Bon Temps and he had been the main suspect of murdering them in the ongoing investigation – not just the one conducted by the local police force but also in the minds of our neighbors.

I knew that Jason would shift long before he himself acknowledged the possibility; his changed brain signature told me as much. Now all that was left for me to do was to survive the night with my own thoughts and hope that my brother would come back to me the next day with a sound body and mind.

It was too early to sleep so in a vain attempt at focusing on something other than my worry for Jason, I changed into some comfy clothes, made myself some hot cocoa and curled up on the sofa with an old blanket and a book. I managed to read two chapters before I heard knocking.

My already not-so-good mood soured when I saw Bill standing on my porch.

Huh. I knew he was up to something.

"Good evening, Sookie," he greeted me, using the most velvety voice he had in his repertoire and, much to my dismay, sending a slight habitual shiver down my spine.

"Hi, Bill. What's up?" I asked quickly.

I had no intention of inviting him inside if the only reason he came was to cast a look full of melancholy on me. My emotional life was complicated enough as it was.

"I wanted to talk to you."

I sighed. Gran raised me too well – I didn't want to talk to him through the door, so I gave in.

"What about? Come in."

I stepped aside to let him in.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm out of True Blood."

He nodded.

"Eric hasn't been here for some time," he noted. He confirmed his observation in a hardly discreet way – he inhaled deeply.

Both his remark and the sniffing irritated me: None of his damn business!

I made a heroic effort and managed to squash the childish urge to snap at him and tell him that I seriously doubted Eric drank bottled blood during his stay at my house.

"If you're looking for him, it would be easier to call Fangtasia," I replied sweetly.

What can I say? I had to keep the balance between my manners and my displeasure.

"I'm not here to talk about Eric."

Thank God for small favours.

"I'm here because I'm worried about you."

Oh? I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"Sookie, I have to ask, why you seemed surprised that night when you saw me at Merlotte's? I know it wasn't a coincidence. It was out of character for you; you don't generally forget that kind of thing. I wanted to make sure everything is fine."

Of course he did.

"When?" I asked innocently.

Pretending to be dumber that I was never hurt me before.

Bill sighed: I noticed offhandedly that Bill sighed quite often.

"When I got back from Peru."

I pondered my options. I could flat out deny everything but it would be very easy for Bill to uncover my lie by asking me a question connected to that forgotten by me conversation that we had had when I met him at Pam's before the battle with the witches (I figured as much by putting together the pieces of information provided by Pam, Eric, and unintentionally by Bill himself). I thought that maybe it would be better to give him something so he would let me off the hook.

"I don't remember anything from that night," I admitted.

Bill looked at me with a suitably stunned expression.

"Nothing?"

I shook my head.

"It's probably a side-effect of Pam forcing Hallow to remove the curse she cast on Eric," I explained using my serious voice.

I was proud of myself; I didn't lie.

My logic was a clear indication that I was spending too much time with vampires.

"But you do remember everything else?"

Damn. For a moment I forgot that Bill too was a vampire.

"Oh, believe me Bill, there are things in my life that I wish I could forget. Unfortunately, no such luck," I tried another avoidance tactic, this time looking at him pointedly, since some of said things were closely tied to his person. "I'm sorry, I don't feel like talking about that."

He still didn't look convinced as he mulled something over in his head.

I had no desire to confess anything to him. As I said: not his business.

"So you didn't talk about that with Eric, either?" he asked trying a different angle.

Jeez, some people just don't get hints.

"I don't feel obligated to report to you about my talks with Eric," I replied sternly: He forced me to do it. I tried a nicer approach first but it didn't work. "and honestly, I don't want to discuss it at all."

Suddenly a light-bulb went off in my head – _Bill was jealous_. You'd think that of all people Bill was the last one to want to talk to me about Eric, but in that second I realised that he was trying to feel me out.

Bill knew that something had happened between me and his boss and he had suspected that something was wrong with my memories. This whole game was about finding out if Eric hid the change in our relationship from me and if he kept had in touch after returning to Fangtasia. What I didn't understand was what Bill planned to do with that information: did he want to pretend that he knew nothing about it and let me think that he was still the only man in my life? Or maybe he wanted to wait for the opportune moment to reveal the truth and shock me? I also realised that one of the possible reasons why he waited so long to confront me might have been that he did it in the hope that Eric would satisfy any interest he had in my person and leave me alone: It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Summarising, unless Bill was just jealous for the sake of being jealous it seemed that he was trying to determine whether I had moved on with my life and if there was any chance of fixing things between us. Now I had to ask myself a question about how I felt about that.

I wasn't not going to pretend that I didn't miss him, because I did, and that some small part of me didn't secretly wish that things could go back to the way they had been before – but the other, bigger, part of me was telling me that that was exactly the one thing that was never going to happen. No matter what I decided to do and whether I gave him another chance or not it was impossible to erase the past.

Bill had hurt me and even though, from what I gathered, he didn't have much choice in answering Lorena's call since she was not only his lover but also the same vampiress who had turned him once upon a time, (there was some kind of mystical connection between a vampire child and its maker that no one ever bothered to explain to me in detail, but I knew that it forced the younger vampire to obey their maker) and even though I knew that he wasn't fully in control when he attacked me in that trunk in Jackson (another interesting episode in my biography), it didn't change the fact that I got badly hurt as a result and that he was the one who hurt me.

I'd never had the opportunity to give voice to the feelings of betrayal and anger that grew inside me in the aftermath of that whole situation.

At first Bill just wasn't there, and when I finally found out why I couldn't confront him because, as I learned from Pam and Eric, he was already out of town. Then, when I found him, he was unconscious and mangled by the very same Lorena (charming woman) so talking wasn't really an option.

Maybe we could have had a chance for that when Bill woke up if not for the fact that by then Debbie Pelt had managed to push me into the trunk with his starved self. Let's just say that an injured vampire and a young woman in a small enclosed space don't mix well – at least from the woman's point of view. After barely avoiding death by my ex's hands (or rather fangs) I was so exhausted and so focused on (unsuccessfully) avoiding any further injuries that I had no energy left for a real confrontation. Then Bill left and I wanted to put it all behind me.

I used to be happy when we were together because I finally wasn't alone and I felt loved, though it was only later that I started to realise that it could have been perhaps at least partly an illusion. And now… I believed that my suffering wasn't something he wanted. That didn't mean, however, that I was ready to trust him again. Maybe it wasn't his fault. I didn't know. I wasn't sure what to think. No matter what the truth was, logic is not always something you can apply to matters of the heart.

Maybe someday I'll forgive Bill: maybe – one day – but not that day. It was still too painful for me to think about, let alone actually speak of.

We continued our conversation for some time, avoiding the sore topics, but once Bill realised that I wasn't interested in a neighborly chat any more than I was in answering his inquiries about my whereabouts at the beginning of January he finally gave up.

When he was leaving I was fairly sure that he knew my secret but neither of us admitted it out loud.

* * *

**Ahh, he's gone, at least for now.**

**Next time: we're setting up the stage.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry it took so long! See you at the bottom!**

**Disclaimer: I thought this universe was abandoned.**

**Betaed by Breathesgirl**

* * *

_Previously:_

_Maybe someday I'll forgive Bill: maybe – one day – but not that day. It was still too painful for me to think about, let alone actually speak of._

_We continued our conversation for some time, avoiding the sore topics, but once Bill realised that I wasn't interested in a neighborly chat any more than I was in answering his inquiries about my whereabouts at the beginning of January he finally gave up._

_When he was leaving I was fairly sure that he knew my secret but neither of us admitted it out loud._

* * *

I woke up early. I would have slept much longer if my nerves regarding my brother's return would have settled. I perked up after he knocked on my door – a little ruffled, but in good health and unexpectedly calm. It turned out that once the fear of the unknown diminished Jason was actually slightly excited about his new supernatural status and about being able to shift into another creature. What I had not predicted was the fact that I wasn't entirely normal suddenly became somehow comforting for Jason. He didn't feel completely alone and he easily believed me when I assured him of my acceptance. He even seemed to gain a better understanding of my situation as someone with a touch of the supernatural, but living among regular humans, though of course my curse was different.

I had not seen it coming, but I welcomed it. I didn't have to worry about Jason anymore.

My happy mood made me so relaxed that when Jason said goodbye to me (after cleaning my fridge) and left, I went back to bed and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. When I woke again, it was almost noon and I was well-rested and in high spirits. I didn't remember my dreams that time so I didn't have to worry about them either.

I hummed along to the radio, off key but happy. The world looked like a much more friendly place than it had the same time the day before. I felt like I could breathe deeply for the first time in a long time. Everything seemed so simple all of sudden!

I got myself ready for work, paying a little more attention than usual to my appearance.

Well, well, I even felt prettier!

Sadly, my newly found optimism was to be seriously tested quite soon.

The bar was crowded which meant a busy shift for me. Moreover, I knew that we had to manage without the boss – Sam was a shapeshifter and just like the Hotshot werepanthers he had to shift every full moon. For the moment he was still manning the bar but I could see that he was tense and that he was going to leave as soon as he could. I wasn't wrong about that – he left fairly quickly – but that was only the tip of the iceberg.

That night we had a fight in the bar. I also had to find a way to discreetly get rid of a women dealing V who showed up looking for new customers – all of that, and I had only Terry to help me and he was like a time-bomb himself. Terry was a Vietnam veteran and he didn't do well under pressure.

Still, I instinctively knew that none of this came even close on the danger-meter scale to the moment when I approached the table occupied by my friend, Tara Thornton, and her companion to deliver their ordered drinks.

Red Stuff. The cheapest (and, according to my fanged friends, the vilest) synthetic blood substitute on the market – anyone ready to drink that meant trouble.

"Sookie, I'd like you to meet Franklin's friend, Mickey," Tara introduced him rather stiffly . Her tone suggested quite the opposite than her expressed desire for us to become buddies and it didn't bode well.

Franklin Mott was a wealthy vampire with a nice appearance of the middle-aged gentleman. To the best of my knowledge Tara had been dating him the last time I'd seen her. He seemed well-mannered and sophisticated. I couldn't picture him socialising with the guy sitting next to Tara.

Mickey looked shady. He was skinny, with narrow shoulders and a face with sharp features. His eyes were cold, watchful and hostile. There was something in them that made me feel a little queasy when I noticed his too long nails.

I knew from the patrons' minds that there had to be something that could be considered attractive about him because I could read it in the mental reactions of some of them, but he seemed revolting me. This guy was terrifying.

I remembered the first time I'd seen Eric and that I had thought back then that his whole being screamed danger, but this was something else. If Eric was a sharp blade that comes noiselessly out of nowhere, Mickey was a slimy bog in the darkness.

I wondered, what in the God's name, my friend was doing with such a creature.

I thought it was really unlucky that Bill decided to confront me the other day instead of waiting a little longer – for once, I'd prefer him to sulk at his table. I'd feel more secure with another vampire in the bar and I could have at least asked him if he knew anything about Mickey.

Fortunately, they didn't stay long. I got the impression that Tara didn't want to linger at Merlotte's – and Mikey, well… he took a picture of the V-dealer with his phone. It crossed my mind that there was a big chance that the unlucky woman would never make it home. Vampires reacted very badly when someone was trying to sell their blood. It wasn't really surprising – to get some V, you had to get it out of a vampire and that usually happened without the vampire's consent. V-dealers worked hand in hand with the drainers, if they were not drainers themselves. It made the whole procedure essentially much akin to the organs' black market. Even knowing all of that the thought of Mickey serving justice on his own made me shiver.

When I somehow managed to survive all of that unscarred I let myself hope that I had already reached my weekly limit of excitement and that I could count on the next day to be calmer. I couldn't have been more wrong.

At first everything was fine. I reported the events of the previous night to Sam and got to work. Most of my shift passed without a hitch. Even the customers seemed nicer than the day before.

Then a fairy walked into the bar. No, I don't mean it as a poetic metaphor. Fairies exist, though they are not the tiny, winged creatures like Tinker Bell. Quite the opposite, all the fairies I had met were on the tall side (not that I had met an awful lot of them). They were also beautiful, magical and rather unpredictable. This particular fairy's name was Claudine Crane. She looked around the room and smiled at me. I smiled back immediately – her smiles were contagious. I had a feeling it had something to do with her supernatural heritage – just like the admiration she evoked in every single male that set his eyes on her.

She walked straight to me, hugged me, and then took my hand and dragged me back to Sam's office. Sam didn't seem to mind. I also noticed that he too had some difficulty taking his eyes off her even though he wasn't human himself.

I met Claudine during a very short, two-week quiet period when my life was otherwise unexciting. I had to admit that her appearance was the most intriguing thing that happened to me at the time. I met her while I was in the process of getting back to normal after Eric's revelations at the beginning of January and she had seemed surprised and alarmed that I didn't know who she was. She was yet another person I met during my missing week. We talked some and I asked her about our history. I had a good feeling about her – or maybe there was something in Claudine that made it really hard to dislike her. Plus, she seemed sincerely concerned about my memory loss and she promised to look into it. That's why I was glad to see Claudine. It made me hopeful, but the hope was quickly crushed and turned into worry when I heard what my pointy-eared friend had to say.

"My dear friend," said Claudine, "I'm sorry, but I have bad news for you."

It wasn't a good start, but I still kept my cool.

"This morning one of the werepanthers got shot."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Jason?!"

Claudine raised her hand in a calming gesture.

"No, your brother is okay – but someone shot Calvin Norris. He's alive, but seriously injured."

Calvin Norris. Jason's new pack-master. Not good.

I suddenly remembered that about a week ago a teenager, Heather Kinman, had been killed in a shooting. What was going on in my home-town?

"Is he going to make it?" I asked a little shakily. I was shocked.

"He's in the hospital. He's badly hurt, but he'll live."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I work in the mall in Ruston. One of Calvin's cousins came to our shop to buy a pair of pyjamas for him."

I'm not sure why but the triviality of the explanation took me off guard.

"Thank you for telling me."

"Don't mention it. I knew you would like to know. Heather was a were too. Think about it."

I asked her if she had a lead on the solution to retrieving my memories but she only shook her head regretfully. She kissed me on the cheek and we went back out to the bar. She spent some time amusing herself with charming the heck out of the male portion of our customers but it didn't look like she even considered leaving with any of them. I was watching her, fascinated – it looked almost as if she was feeding on the attention.

After she left I told Sam what I learned from her. He seemed almost as worried as I was. He decided to send Calvin some flowers from Merlotte's and I thought I should call Jason and ask him about the details.

That night I was closing the bar with Sam. We were already outside and he was just locking the door when I thought with relief that I got through yet another day safely. I opened my mouth to say something and Sam turned his head to look at me.

I was looking him in the eye when the shot rang in the air.

* * *

**I know it might feel a bit like a filler chapter and I'm sorry for that, but some things just needed to be said before we can move on. Also, I realise that Claudine's introduction was a little rushed, but I figured since it's a fanfiction and you all already know her, I can afford skipping some of it and not boring you with repeating something you have probably read many times before.**

**And most importantly... yes, if you're reading 'Healed' too, you probably noticed that there was no Eric in neither of my updates this week. How did that happen? We definitely need to do something about it. I promise: you'll see him again soon enough. In both stories.**

**Next time: Sookie looks for help and Pam finally enters the story (did you miss her?).**


	10. Chapter 10

**Here we go :)**

**Disclaimer: I'm afraid to say it again, because you might find the fact I'm repeating it over and over suspicious**

**(Thankfully) betaed by Breathesgirl. You don't even know how lucky you are that she fixes my mistakes :)**

* * *

_Previously:_

_That night I was closing the bar with Sam. We were already outside and he was just locking the door when I thought with relief that I got through yet another day safely. I opened my mouth to say something and Sam turned his head to look at me._

_I was looking him in the eye when the shot rang in the air._

* * *

I shut the car door behind me and took a deep breath. I stood in line to the entrance and dutifully waited for my turn. I admit that I was nervous as hell.

At the door I came face to face with Pam who visibly perked up when she saw me.

"Sookie!" she said in her usual bored tone. "I can't decide if it's very good or very bad that you're here, but either way, my night just became interesting."

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking out my wallet.

I'd never had to pay for entrance to Fangtasia before because I'd always visited while accompanied by a vampire but Pam waved off my attempt to pay.

"You're a guest. Eric's orders."

I didn't want to read too much into that but it sounded promising. At least it had to be a better sign than if he forbade his staff from letting me in, right?

"Eric knows that I'm here?" I asked, surprised.

"Considering that he can sense your presence, I'd say yes," oh, the joys of drinking vampire blood! "but that's not what I meant. He meant it in general."

Oh.

She shook her head in a way that told me, along with the tone she used (half-scolding, half-indulgent with a hint of amusement) that she didn't agree with Eric's business decision . And I was happy to see her. How pathetic of me.

"You look delicious," she complimented me off-handedly and her choice of words made me feel like a glass of fine wine.

Well, if you think about it…

"Thanks. You look great, as always."

I was telling the truth. Pam is gorgeous, and even if her work outfits were much more dramatic and very different from her preferred everyday clothes she still looked lovely.

Pam simply nodded, quite satisfied with herself. She had no intention of pretending to be modest.

"Try not to upset him," she called after me as I was passing her. "He's been completely insufferable lately… and I'm wearing my good shoes," she added enigmatically.

Fan-tas-tic. Exactly what I wanted to hear.

I preferred not to dwell on the question of why Eric's bad mood would make Pam worried about her shoes.

The line behind me was getting impatient so I moved on quickly without asking any more questions and waved at Pam before stepping inside the bar.

I scanned the room but I soon realised that Eric wasn't sitting on his throne or in his booth. I figured that he had to be somewhere in the back, most probably in his office. I didn't mean to interrupt whatever he was busy with – and I mean _whatever_ it might be – so I walked to the bar thinking that it might be best if I bought a drink and waited for a while, hoping that he would show up soon. If my plan didn't work I would, of course, go to his office and knock, but at least this way there was a chance that I could avoid disrupting his plans and upsetting him any further…

Oh, who was I kidding. I just preferred talking to Eric in the open space of the bar over facing him alone in a closed room. It was only reasonable since I didn't know just how mad he still was at me. It had absolutely nothing to do with my dreams.

"May I have the honour of fixing you a drink and learning your name, miss?" asked the new bartender, pulling me out of thoughts.

I smiled at him. He was a vampire and he looked like a pirate. Seriously – he had a big nose, Spanish mustache, wavy long hair, silky purple shirt and even an eye-patch. The only thing missing to complete his image would be a parrot on his arm.

Eric and Pam always tried to hire someone eye-catching as a bartender to draw the tourists and this time they had certainly succeeded.

For some reason the position was rather unlucky, just like the one for the cook at Merlotte's. The rotation of people working on both posts was unnaturally quick. No one ever stayed long – they were either leaving, or ending up dead – or definitely dead, in some cases.

I thought distractedly about Sweetie Des Artes who was currently working as a cook at Merlotte's. She seemed to have potential – she was hard-working, wasn't getting into conflicts with co-workers, and she cooked quite well. I made a silent wish for both Sweetie and the new vampire bartender to have more luck than their predecessors.

"The name is Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse," I said, taking a stool at the bar. "I'll take a ginger ale, please."

I saw him raising his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise but I still needed to drive myself home afterwards so drinking alcohol wasn't a good idea.

"Charles Twining at your service, pretty lady," it was clear that he quite enjoyed showing off his acting skills. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He presented me with a glass and a napkin and bowed with a flourish. I couldn't hold a grin. I had no doubts that he was an a-class rascal but at least he could be charming about it.

A woman sitting next to me gave me a gloomy look. She was wondering how I managed to draw the vampire's attention so easily since that was exactly what she'd been trying to do for the last half hour; she hoped that seeking the undead would help her to solve her financial problems. If she had asked me I would have told her how terrible of an idea it was but it wasn't my business so I kept my mouth shut.

I payed for my drink and left Charles a tip. I spent some time watching him work while waiting for Eric to surface and from what I could tell Charles was good at his job.

"Miss Stackhouse, if I may, you look fabulous tonight," he addressed me after a few minutes.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Twining," I said, smiling politely at him.

At least I was pretty. I knew that my physical type (blond, blue eyes, big rack) was quite popular. Vampires seemed to be additionally drawn to this tiny bit of otherness in me that only supes could detect.

The woman at the bar pouted and felt rebellious enough to say something unflattering about me but her voice got lost in her throat when another vampire approached the bar. I felt a hand clasping my upper arm.

"That will be all, Charles," said a cool, familiar voice from behind me.

I turned around and saw Eric. His eyes were fixed on Charles and there was something heavy in his stare. His face was completely locked up and not giving anything away. I wasn't sure if the coldness radiating from him was aimed at me or the bartender but it didn't look like a good start to our meeting.

"Sookie," he said, finally turning his attention to me.

He was talking to me. It was a start.

"Hi, Eric," I said, sounding much less confident than I intended.

"Am I correct in assuming that you want to talk to me?"

I nodded. He led me to a side booth, keeping a firm but not painful hold on my arm. It wasn't until we were already seated that I was hit by the impact of Fangtasia's customers' thoughts and I realised that Pam wasn't joking when she complained about Eric's mood.

I noticed, much to my surprise, that the admiration and lust that usually came from the fangbangers in waves whenever Eric walked into the room was masked by a healthy dose of caution that time.

The explanation for the phenomenon was quite simple – Eric saw no reason to hide his bad mood from anyone so he wasn't bothering to. I wasn't sure exactly what it was that he had done lately, but whatever it was, it had to have been quite a number if it resulted in everyone, even his devoted fans, preferring to keep a safe distance from him. Huh! Look how brave I was!

He scrutinised me closely but I couldn't read anything from his face.

"What can I do for you, my Sookie?"

I didn't correct him because it didn't seem to be the best moment to argue about pronouns. It could wait until I found out if he was still mad at me.

His hand slipped from my arm and moved lower until it rested lightly on the table next to my own hand - nearly touching but not quite. His gaze stopped on my red nails. I had put a cranberry polish on them, painting them to match my new coat and I realised that Eric would immediately know why I'd chosen that specific shade.

Dammit, I shouldn't have taken the coat with me – or maybe it was a good thing?… I was tired of guessing. I just wished I knew what was going on.

I wondered if Eric liked my nails and then scolded myself quickly for such a vain thought.

He brushed his thumb against the tops of my fingers. His hand was cool, but my skin warmed up where he touched it.

"I'm here on business," I said right away to keep things straight. "Sam would like to ask you for a favour."

Eric raised his eyebrow.

"He wants a favour from me and he sent you to me instead of coming to me himself? Is he so stupid or so clever?"

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

"Neither. He's hurt."

The second brow joined the first on Eric's forehead.

"Literally," I clarified. "Last night someone shot him in the leg."

Eric's attention fixed on me so hard that I could feel it like a physical weight pressing on me.

"What happened?" he asked.

I described the circumstances that led to the incident for him.

"You were there when this happened," he said with a dark note in his voice. "How close did you stand?"

His face was unreadable, as if carved in stone. I couldn't decipher his look.

"Quite close," I admitted and shivered at the memory.

I'd been alone with Sam since Arlene and Sweetie had already gone home. Sam was closing and I stepped closer because I wanted to remind him that we were almost out of True Blood. Then I suddenly heard a gunshot and there was blood everywhere. Sam was lying on the ground curled up in pain and I didn't know what to do first: get him out of there, try to spot the shooter or call the ambulance. I did the first and the last; by then whoever shot Sam was already gone.

I stayed in the hospital until the wee hours to make sure that Sam was okay. I was exhausted and sleep deprived.

"Do they know who did it?" Eric's question shook me out of unpleasant memory.

"No – but this isn't the first time something like this has happened in the area."

Eric's hand closed on my fingers.

"How many?"

"Three."

"Is there a connection?'

"All victims were shifters or weres of some kind. Calvin Norris – you remember him – he's in the hospital. Heater Kinman, a young girl, is dead. She was a werefox. And Sam."

I had no idea why but Eric seemed rather pleased with that piece of information.

"Then you should be safe," he said and I caught on to his logic.

I furrowed my eyebrows and wanted to protest and say that it didn't mean everything was alright, but I stopped myself from commenting out loud. I had to remember who I was talking to. Eric didn't care for random weres.

"Yes. I hope so," I said instead, because I couldn't argue with him that knowing that it was different that time, that it wasn't me who was on the kill-list of the unknown serial killer was a good thing, even if it didn't solve the problem.

"Did your brother shift?" Eric asked unexpectedly.

"He did."

"He'll be the first suspect in Hotshot," he stated calmly.

An icy shudder ran down my spine.

"Jason's not that stupid," I said automatically, even though Eric didn't ask if Jason was involved or anything.

Eric shrugged.

"The pack is going to look for the guilty party. Someone who did it had to know about weres and how to recognise them. It means it wasn't a human. Newly turned bitten weres often hate what they've become."

I realised that Jason was the perfect scapegoat. I sincerely hoped that my brother had a good alibi. I made a mental note to warn him.

"What is it that Sam wants from me?" Eric asked and I finally remembered that I had gone there with a specific task to perform.

"His leg needs to heal so he's grounded for the time being. Considering how troublous things have been in the bar lately we're going to need help. Sam wanted to borrow one of your bartenders until he gets better."

Luckily the wound wasn't life threatening and Sam was in relatively good shape but for time being he could walk only with a crutch and he wouldn't be able to break up a fight or play bodyguard if there was any trouble from the mysterious shooter again.

Eric took his time pondering his options before answering. He looked at me the whole time he was thinking.

"It turns out that Sam did make a smart move by sending you to me, after all," he said at last. "All right, I'll send someone to you."

I looked down and felt relief flowing through me. When I looked up again I saw that Eric was scanning the room with his eyes, looking from one present vampire to another. Apparently he was thinking about which one of them he wanted to go with me.

"It would be good if it was someone with good self-control," I suggested gently.

His eyes lingered for a second on Charles but when Eric turned back to me it was a different name he said:

"Pam."

* * *

**... and now you finally know why Pam is listed as a character in this story. I thought this is more personal to Eric than it was in the canon-verse, since he remembers everything, so it stands a reason that he would want to send someone he trusts - and we all know that's a short list of names.**

**Next time: someone finally snaps.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: No matter what Sookie thinks, she's not her own woman, but I don't own her either.**

**Breathesgirl was so kind that she betaed this chapter for me.**

* * *

_Previously:_

_When I looked up again I saw that Eric was scanning the room with his eyes, looking from one present vampire to another. Apparently he was thinking about which one of them he wanted to go with me._

_"It would be good if it was someone with good self-control," I suggested gently._

_His eyes lingered for a second on Charles but when Eric turned back to me it was a different name he said:_

_"Pam."_

* * *

I smiled. I liked Pam.

"Great," I said sincerely.

Someone must have released Pam from door-duty, because I saw her at the other side of the room. Her head snapped in our direction when Eric uttered her name – or maybe he called her in some other way? One corner of her mouth turned up when she met my eyes.

She walked toward us slowly, with a cat-like grace, her movement perfectly synchronized with the music.

"Eric," she greeted with a slight nod of her head.

It looked like Eric did summon her, after all. I was just glad that their relationship was the way it was, and she was using his name while talking to him, instead of addressing him as her 'Master', the way many vampires had to with their superiors.

The fangbangers loved it and quickly adopted the custom, using the title whenever they could, but personally I found it obnoxious. I knew that Eric and Pam co-owned the bar, and while I wouldn't go as far as saying that they were equals with Eric being so much older and being the area sheriff, I got the feeling that they were partners not only in name. There was an underlying trust and fondness between the two.

"You're going to help Sookie," Eric said without any preamble.

My mouth hung open. The flatness of this statement shocked me. Eric's tone didn't leave any room for discussion.

"With pleasure," Pam purred her reply, flashing a hint of fang.

Her eyes lit up with mischief. It made me keep my mouth shut, even though I was really tempted to comment on Eric's rudeness – only Pam seemed honestly pleased with her assignment and not at all surprised that Eric was sending her away from their own bar without even bothering to ask for her opinion on the matter. I also didn't miss the fact that he said she was to go to help me, not Sam.

"These are my terms," Eric said turning to me and adopting a business tone. "Sam will provide Pam with a safe place for the day and unlimited access to blood."

I nodded. I was sure that Pam knew how to take care of herself and her dietary needs, but these were reasonable requests.

"What about money?"

"Let's just say that I like the thought of Sam owing me one. I don't want any other payment."

I knew this last part could be tricky, but I decided that Sam could judge it himself, so I used the cell phone he had lent me just with this particular use in mind and called him to let him know the verdict. While I was reporting to Sam, Eric turned to Pam and switching to some foreign language he started to talk to her so rapidly that I probably wouldn't understand him even if he was speaking English. Maybe he was giving her some instructions, or maybe they were talking about something entirely unrelated.

Sam seemed to be resigned when I repeated everything to him.

"There is one place in the bar where a vampire could hide during the day," he said. "So be it. Blood, light-tight space and a favour. When can she start?"

"Tomorrow night," answered Eric, who of course could not only multitask, but also hear both sides of the conversation.

When I hung up Pam smiled at me and said:

"Until tomorrow, Sookie. You'll see, we're going to have so much fun."

Then she winked at me and left.

I shook my head with a smile. Pam was the closest thing to a friend I had among vampires.

"Is there anything else for me to worry about?" Eric asked unexpectedly.

I blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"Let me give you an example: if, let's say, somebody else came close to killing you lately, it would be a reason to worry."

I couldn't decide if he was teasing me or if he was completely serious.

"I'm sure it keeps you awake at… well, day," I said trying to use the same, enigmatic tone he did.

"Do you doubt it?" his follow up question didn't really help me to solve the mystery that was his current mood.

Was it a joke? A reproach? A challenge?

I narrowed my eyes.

"Is there any particular reason why you find my fate so interesting?" I asked suspiciously.

"There are a lot of reasons"

"Name one of them."

I could swear that he hesitated for a split second.

"I have many wicked plans regarding your person," he clued me in, this time with a smirk.

I made a show of making a face, even though I felt the rush of heat hitting me and I knew that Eric could hear all that blood pulsing wildly in my every artery with a doubled speed. I had no doubt as to what kind of plans he had in mind.

"Name a different one."

"You're very useful."

Useful. Oh yes, of course.

"Then no, you have nothing to worry about."

Eric shot me a weird glance. I suddenly remembered that I wanted to fix things with him, so I shouldn't snap at him.

"I'm fine," I added hurriedly. "You?"

He looked genuinely surprised with the question but not in a bad way. I supposed it wasn't often someone asked him how he was.

"It took some time to clean up the mess after the witches but everything is back to normal now," he replied evasively.

Which didn't explain in the slightest why he was so pissed.

"Eric, are you still mad at me?" I surrendered at last.

He gave me a long look. There was a dangerous glint in his eye.

"It depends."

"It depends? On what?"

"Will you dance with me?"

I almost choked on my ginger ale. I looked at him in disbelief and barked a short, nervous little laugh. I wasn't sure what was going on.

"You'll stop being mad at me if I dance with you?" I made sure that I heard him right.

"Exactly."

In a blink he was standing in front of me with his hand outstretched. I took it slowly and with some hesitation. I glanced at the almost empty dance floor before returning my gaze to Eric. I knew that I should not decline his offer. He was doing me and Sam a big favour – and he was reaching out (figuratively and literally) to me.

"Let's go, then," I said, getting up.

There were many reasons for me to feel unsure about accepting his invitation. I could feel the eyes of every single person at Fangtasia on us when we approached the dance floor. I couldn't figure out Eric's actions. I was afraid that in agreeing to his proposal I was taking part in some game without knowing its rules or where it would lead.

None of that mattered.

The moment Eric's arms wrapped around me everything else faded into the background. I felt the stress melting away for the first time that evening. I almost sighed out loud in contentment. Much to my surprise I discovered that despite the height difference we danced together quite well. It seemed natural. Despite my initial worry, it didn't feel awkward, even with people staring at us. What can I say – dancing with Eric was simply pleasant.

I suddenly realised with full force that all it took was for Eric to stop playing an arrogant ass for a moment to make him very hard to resist.

"I don't want to fight with you," I said quietly.

"Good," he said and his voice came from a much closer distance than I expected.

I raised my head and then I made a mistake – I looked into his eyes. My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't look away. If I didn't know it was impossible I would have thought he glamoured me. He was close – too close – not close enough. Somehow, stealthily, gradually – closer and closer – to the point where he bent his neck so much that the loose strand of his hair tickled my face. By the time the last notes of the song rang in the air and we stopped moving slowly, I was so dazed that I needed a few seconds to even remember where I was. I recovered only when I noticed Eric's gaze dropping to my mouth.

"Thank you," I said stepping out of his arms hurriedly and giving him a slightly crazy smile.

An expression crossed Eric's face, the one I couldn't decipher, but that was slowly becoming familiar.

"I should go now," I added hastily. "It's been a long two days."

The second I said it, I suddenly felt all the fatigue and the sleepless night crashing down on me.

"I'll walk you out," Eric said after a pause.

I went back to the booth to collect my purse. Eric held the coat for me and then, before I could protest, without a word, he buttoned it, one button at the time, starting with the one situated the lowest and moving up. With each button he fastened my breaths were getting shallower. At last, Eric smoothed the cranberry fabric with open palms and pinned me with that icy-blue stare of his again.

"It's a perfect fit," he said with a straight face.

I only gulped, unable to find my voice.

Oh my, oh my. I needed to get out of there – like, right then!

I could see Pam watching me closely from a distance when I was leaving the bar with Eric, but luckily she didn't do or say anything. I waved at her and walked out as fast as I could without running.

The cooler air hit my face. I was desperately searching for something I could say to change the mood.

"Hey, I was meaning to ask you, do you by any chance know that creepy vampire, Mickey?" I suddenly remembered when we had almost reached my car.

Eric's reaction was unexpectedly violent. He grabbed my wrist so strongly that I squeaked in pain.

"Ouch!"

He loosened his grip, but only fractionally.

"Where did you meet him?"

"Merlotte's," I said, confused, "why?"

"What was he doing there?"

"Eric, let go," I demanded. "It hurts."

His eyes shot down to my hand, as if it was only then that he realised what he was doing and he finally let go of my wrist.

"He was sitting at the table with my friend Tara and drinking Red Stuff," I answered when he released me.

"What is she doing with him? Last time I saw her she was with Franklin Mott."

I remembered that Eric had met Tara in Jackson.

"Yes, they were dating at the time. I have no idea. I hoped that maybe Mickey was her bodyguard, or something?"

"Not likely."

"What is wrong with that guy?"

Even if I didn't trust my own instincts Eric's reaction to his name would be enough to get me worried.

"Stay away from him. Don't get in his way. Don't talk to him."

"Eric?" I asked uncertainly.

"Sookie, I'm serious. Stay out of it."

"I have to talk to Tara," I said, suddenly afraid for my friend.

"No! Stay away from her too. Don't try to help her."

"I can't just ignore it!" I argued, annoyed by his attitude.

"Damn it, Sookie! You have no idea what he's capable of."

I rolled my eyes. Same old, same old.

"Sookie, Mickey is capable of things that even other vampires wouldn't do," Eric said slowly and with emphasis.

Okay. That gave me a pause.

"I don't have so many friends that I could afford to lose one of them," I said grimly.

Eric gritted his teeth.

"If she's seeing Mickey, I don't give her a bright future," he told me with a brutal honesty. "You have nothing to do with that. Leave it."

He put his hands on my shoulders. This time I knew for sure that he couldn't glamour me – if he could, he would have already done it. We glared at each other.

"I can't risk anything happening to you."

I looked at him surprised.

Ah, yeah. I remembered: _useful_.

"It's not your business, Eric."

A few long seconds passed, and then he let me go and took a step back.

"Goodnight, Sookie," he said coldly. "Pam will be at Merlotte's tomorrow night."

He turned on his heel.

And he was mad at me. Again. I clenched my teeth. I exhaled through my nose. I was sick of it. Enough is enough.

"Okay, that's enough," I said loudly.

Eric froze. Luckily, he wasn't moving with vampire speed. He looked over his shoulder and gave me a questioning look.

"I know you've been angry at me and I understand why, even though you could take into consideration how all of this looks from my perspective."

Eric raised an eyebrow.

"And it doesn't look good."

I don't know if he wanted to say something to that because I had no intention of letting him saying anything until I got it all off my chest.

"But you have to make up your mind about what you want! I apologised –"

I did, didn't I? I was sure that I did.

"I haven't seen hide nor hair of you since then – that's fine too! Okay! I get it! You have a right to stay away," I was talking in a raised voice, "but then you can't just come out with something like this! You can't interfere in my life and make choices for me! You can't just disappear and then be mad when things are not the way you'd like them to be when you decide to reappear! You've been gone for weeks! Why are you being like this? What's going on here? How am I supposed to know if you even still want to have anything to do with me? How can I know if you even care what's going on with me? I can't read your mind!"

Yeah, that _was_ part of the problem – and, at the same time, a blessing.

Eric narrowed his eyes.

"And… don't look at me like that! I have no idea what it means!"

I was catching my breath. Eric was looking at me for a few seconds, and then he took a couple of long strides and before I realised what was going on, I found myself pressed between my car and Eric's body and being kissed as if the world was coming to the end.

It was as if someone suddenly switched the gear that was trying to bounce off from the moment I stepped inside Fangtasia and wired me up. It surprised me that there were no visible sparks flying from every inch of my body that was touching Eric's.

Something changed. Eric had kissed me a few times in the past (okay, probably more than just a few times, but that was all I remembered) and each time it had been a highly pleasurable experience, but this time something was different.

While I was trying to figure out what the difference was (and catch my breath), my hands had a mind of their own and wandered toward Eric's head and shoulders. My body knew his capabilities better than the conscious me did and it knew exactly how to make the best use of them.

And then, suddenly, I solved the puzzle and came up with a paradoxical answer: the kiss was less perfect.

When Eric had kissed me before, he'd been doing it the way one could expect from someone having a thousand years' worth of practice – flawlessly. It had been smooth, harmonious, full of delight and two hundred percent power of seduction. Skillful. Splendid.

This – this wasn't a skill. This wasn't art or craft. This was voracious, boiling, impatient and an absolutely wonderful hot mess.

It crossed my mind that he was kissing me as if he was trying to force me to remember.

_A kiss breaks a curse_ - a stray thought filtered through my muddled brain. - _It... wakes… someone…_

It was definitely waking _something._

I managed to break away before I passed out from the lack of oxygen. I gulped in a big draught of air loudly. I closed my eyes and waited for my head to stop spinning.

It was a safe bet that my subconscious was going to serve me a dreamy remake of that scene the following night.

"Why do you not want me?" Eric surprised me with a question.

I looked at him as if he was crazy. I was so dazed from the kiss that I could barely comprehend what he was saying. Did I look like I didn't want him?

"Why did you want me then, but don't want me now?" he continued with the questions. "Was it because you knew the spell was temporary? Did you do that out of pity? Did you think I was someone else, that I wasn't myself? Did you let it happen only because you believed it wasn't really me?"

He sounded as if these questions had haunted him for some time. I hadn't even thought that it could have been be bothering him. I had no answers for him. I wished I had them myself. I tried to force myself to sober up, but there were so many emotions and hormones battling inside me that I didn't even know what I was feeling.

"Eric," I said helplessly. "I have no idea what I was thinking."

He was the first one to recover. I could see the moment when the look in his eyes shifted and his face morphed back into its composed expression when he got himself back under control. I felt an unexpected pang of regret when he straightened his back and looked at me, once again perfectly collected.

"One day you'll remember," he said.

* * *

**I just wanted to thank you all for being so amazing and still reading it - I don't know if you realised, but you bore with me for over ten chapters and it's only now that I gave you a decent kiss (though I can feel Eric glaring at me all the way from the other universe for calling any of his kisses _decent_).**

**So... now that we have all major players in place we can just sit back and watch them play. Don't forget to tell me what you think!**

**Next time: Sookie gets into an argument and some old questions resurface.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Betaed by Breathesgirl.**

**Disclaimer: Do I look like Charlaine Harris? I guess you don't know, so I'll tell you: no. I don't.**

* * *

Thankfully, even stunned as I was after my confrontation with Eric, I somehow managed to retain enough presence of mind to avoid wrapping my car around the tree. I briefly considered stopping by Sam's to return his cell-phone to him and to check on him but I was so exhausted that I decided to simply call him to ask how he was doing and confirm that Pam was coming to help instead, and then swing by his place and drop the phone off on my way to work next day.

"I see you were in no hurry to leave Fangtasia," Sam said instead of hello.

My temper flared, choking me up for a moment. What was that supposed to mean?

"Ooooh, Sooookie, thank you for getting a bartender and a bodyguard for me," I mocked. "I'm sooo sorry you had to swallow your pride and ask Eric for help on my account."

Right then I didn't care that he was my boss.

"So Eric went for it," Sam stated in reply after a moment.

Did he have amnesia too? Maybe there was something in the water?

"Yes, he did, I'm not sure why you sound so surprised. We talked about it on the phone when I was at Fangtasia. Nothing has changed."

"Blood, resting place and a favour, is that right?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me, "Just like I said."

"I owe Eric a favour," he repeated as if he somehow thought I was to blame for that.

"Yes, you do! I consulted you with the terms and you agreed! You sent me to take care of your business for you and I did! You asked him for a favour, he asked for one in exchange. I did you a favour and you are being rude to me instead of being grateful. No matter what you made yourself believe in the meantime, this is how things are."

He admitted I was right, but he didn't sound too pleased about that.

"I changed my mind, though," he said. "I think Pam should stay with you."

"And why is that?"

"The closet in the storage room she would have to lock herself in is rather small – and you have a light-tight space for a vampire in your house, don't you?"

"Why didn't you tell me this before? I don't like that you're putting me in this position."

"Are you saying no?"

"I have every right to say no! You should have asked me, or at least inform me about your plans before you made a decision that someone – a vampire – is going to stay at my house, not just assuming that I would be okay with that! It's not like I'm running a vampire hotel."

Yes, I knew Pam, but it was about principles.

"No, but you work for me and Pam is going to work for me too…"

"Uh-huh, sure, why don't you ask Arlene or Holly to let her crash at their place?"

"Well, no, but that's because…" he sounded genuinely surprised.

Luckily for him, he trailed off.

"What, you don't know how to finish this sentence? Listen to me…"

I paused to gather my thoughts.

It wasn't some hypothetical strange vampire we were talking about. If that was the case, I would have told Sam to go climb a tree – but we were talking about Pam.

Damn it. My hands were tied.

If Sam was talking about the closet with chemicals in the storage room I really didn't want to put Pam through sleeping inside it. It would protect her from the sun, and it's not like vampires suffer from insomnia, but she would have to curl next to Sam's supply of rat poison and old mops. I couldn't do that to someone I considered my friend. Sure, all I could offer her was a place in a closet, too, but at least my closet was remodeled to serve the purpose. I would give her a pillow and sheets – and my closet smelled of lavender, not cleaning products and rags.

"I'm going to do this, but only because it's Pam, do you understand? I'll do this – for her, not for you. Which doesn't change the fact that it was wrong of you to leave me no choice like this! Don't think that just because I'm doing this it means that I agree with you and that everything is fine. Bye, Sam."

I hung up before he could respond. Without a pause, not wanting to lose the nerve, I found the number for Fangtasia and angrily pressed the buttons. I asked dryly for them to pass the phone to Pam or Eric, depending which one of them was available at the moment. Of course with my luck I got Eric.

"Tell Pam that she's going to stay with me after all," I said after I got through the unsurprising part of the conversation containing Eric asking me if I was already missing him (let's face it – when it comes to certain things Eric _is_ predictable). "I work the lunch shift tomorrow, so she'll probably miss me at Merlotte's, but I'll be home in the evening and I'll let her in.

"Would I get the same invitation if I offered myself instead of Pam?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Goodnight, Eric," I said simply before disconnecting.

I decided it was time to cease my activity for the day and was happy to crawl into my bed. I fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke up reinvigorated but still in a testy mood. It was raining and I was wondering if Sam was going to fire me for last night.

I was up early, so I indulged myself with a lazy breakfast, deciding to leave doing the chores for later. I wanted to clean the place up before Pam's arrival, but I knew that since she was going to work the evening shift, I would still have a few hours to do that after I come home from work.

I was just drinking my coffee when the courier parked in my driveway.

The delivery was from Fangtasia. I examined it curiously. I had no idea why I got it and why now.

The package was stiff and smaller than the last one I got from Eric. I unpacked it and was surprised to find a book inside it – or, more precisely, a trashy romance novel, the kind I liked to entertain myself by reading in my free time for relaxation. Someone (judging from the handwriting I suspected Eric) stuck a note between the pages; it read "for sleepless nights". Other than that, there was no explanation. Last night's conversation left me completely confused, so I couldn't stop myself from being a little suspicious. I wanted to believe the gift was offered in good faith and that "for sleepless nights" could be translated as "peace offering", but preferred to stay frosty – injured male pride was no joke. On the other hand, it might have been just a sign of one of Eric's strong personality traits: he never gave up. One thing was certain – he had no intention of letting me forget about him.

I glanced at the page marked by the note and felt my ears burning.

Definitely Eric.

Without reading the book I could bet that I was reading the raciest scene in the novel – or at least I hoped so.

I wondered if I should be concerned about the fact that the scandalous undertone of the gift was almost welcomed. Indecency was Eric's natural state. I was already used to it and the blunt way in which he was constantly expressing his attraction to me became a part of the norm in our relationship. I was relieved to see the banter returning, even if the type of 'hinting' Eric preferred in his innuendos was so transparent that it was hard to even call it that. One of the things I always liked about Eric was his sense of humour. After the unusual gravity of our last few interactions, light-heartedness was something I longed for.

The truth was, even though most of the time I thought him completely insufferable, somewhere along the way (I wasn't sure when exactly) he grew on me and I found myself getting attached to his devious personality. It was almost masochistic in a way and probably not too wise of me, considering how dangerous he was.

I closed the book and flipped it to take a look at the front cover.

I snorted loudly.

"Seriously?" I said.

There was a picture on the cover, one of these computer processed graphics that are styled to imitate a photo, with a deep chiaroscuro, dramatic wind-blown hair and disheveled clothes. It displayed an image of a couple: a busty blond in the arms of a muscular man with a half-naked torso. The blond's lips were parted with a sigh and she looked like she was about to faint. The man had Nordic features and looked suspiciously like a Viking.

"Sword of passion" – I read, amused.

Subtle, Eric.

Fighting a smile, I put the book on my nightstand to examine it closer at a later date and got back to getting ready to leave. I made a mental note to stop by a grocery to buy some True Blood – I knew that according to the deal I struck for Sam he was the one supposed to take care of supplying Pam with blood but since I was the one playing host, I preferred to have something to offer her on hand, even if only for my own peace of mind.

I walked into Merlotte's mentally prepared to confront Sam, but it turned out that he wasn't even at the bar. I felt almost disappointed.

I walked to the table occupied by my brother and his friend Hoyt and took their orders. Jason seemed to be in a good mood. I reminded myself that I had to warn him.

"Sook, would you like to go with me to Grainger hospital after work?" he surprised me.

Calvin was at Grainger hospital. I gave it a thought. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk to him?

"Sure, why not?"

We exchanged a few more remarks about recent dramatic events and then I hurried to take care of the new customers. The two of them just entered the bar: a well-built, dark haired man with a scar on his face and a pretty blond with a short haircut. They were from out of town.

"Am I talking to Sookie Stackhause?" the man asked when I brought him the tea he ordered.

"Yes, why are you asking?"

"My name is Jack Leeds," he said, putting a business card on the table, "and I'm a private investigator. My wife and I are working on a case and we would like to ask you a few questions."

"And what case would that be?"

"The disappearance of Debbie Pelt."

* * *

**Dun, Dun, DUN! ;) **

**Next time: More questions and some were-panthers.**

**Did you see the number of reviews? Yes, we're close to reaching another mark... so I think it's only fair if I give the teaser to the person who gives me review number 200 :)**


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